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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28696752">Make It Right</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramblin_rosie/pseuds/San%20Antonio%20Rose'>San Antonio Rose (ramblin_rosie)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Collaborations: jennytork and San Antonio Rose [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Big Bang Challenge, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, Episode: s02e01 In My Time of Dying, Episode: s05e19 Hammer of the Gods, Gen, Supernatural Gen Big Bang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2012-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2012-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:20:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,405</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28696752</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramblin_rosie/pseuds/San%20Antonio%20Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel gets one last message from God at the Elysian Fields Hotel: "Go back and make it right." It's not until Lucifer turns his sword back on him that he realizes exactly what God meant, and he's not able to get away before the blow strikes. But go back he does--landing in a hospital ER where Dean lies dying, and Gabriel's just a few steps away from death himself. The only way he knows to follow Dad's order is to stop John's deal, even if it kills him. Naturally, Zachariah has a Plan B... but fortunately for the Winchesters, so does Gabriel. And Dean's not afraid to turn Trickster himself if it means saving Sam's life. (Co-written with jennytork; art by chosenfire28)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Collaborations: jennytork and San Antonio Rose [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094930</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Go Back</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p><br/>

  </p>
</div><p>“I can’t kill my brother,” Gabriel protested.</p><p>Dean didn’t quite glare at him, but it was close. “Can’t or won’t?”</p><p>Gabriel didn’t answer. Dean stared at him a moment longer, then headed back into the Elysian Fields Hotel, his frustration and disdain trailing after him like a storm cloud following Eeyore.</p><p>Gabriel sat in the back of the Impala for a moment longer, sulking. Killing Lucifer wasn’t his <i>job</i>, and he didn’t want to kill <i>any</i> of his brothers, no matter how estranged they were. Even if Dean had a point about this whole Apocalypse thing not being Dad’s will, what choice did they have? What could Gabriel do about it?</p><p>Still stewing, Gabriel got out and tried to test how far he could get now that Kali thought he was dead. <i>Not far</i> turned out to be the answer. He was tied to this do-it-yourself vessel, and said vessel was tied to his ex. Gabriel huffed and started pacing across the parking lot, trying to decide what to do.</p><p>
  <i>Gabriel.</i>
</p><p>Gabriel halted—he’d thought he’d never hear that still, small voice again.</p><p>
  <i>Go back and make it right.</i>
</p><p>“Wha—bu—how?”</p><p>
  <i><span class="u">Go back</span> and make it right.</i>
</p><p>Mind whirling, Gabriel flew back into the hotel, heading straight for the Winchesters’ room to avoid everyone he knew would be elsewhere. After thinking through the possibilities, he hatched a maybe-crazy-enough-to-work plan and, with a snap of his fingers, hid a message on a <i>Casa Erotica 13</i> DVD just to be on the safe side. Then he zapped down to the dining room to give said DVD to Dean, get him and Sam to escort Kali to safety, and set up an illusion to confront Lucifer.</p><p>Everything went like clockwork until Luci saw through the illusion and turned Gabriel’s own sword against him. Time seemed to slow as Luci caught the hilt and used the sword’s momentum to drive a blow toward Gabriel’s stomach. And before the point could make contact, everything paused.</p><p>
  <i>No. <span class="u">Go back</span> and <span class="u">make it right</span>.</i>
</p><p>And suddenly Gabriel understood Dad’s meaning. He was just able to wrest the sword out of Luci’s hand before time started again and the blade drove deep into his gut, wounding him to the grace—but not fatally, not yet. He cried out in pain but quickly pulled himself together, getting a good grasp on the sword so it wouldn’t come out too soon and let him bleed out.</p><p>Then he cast his memory back... and jumped.</p>
<hr/><p>
“Hey!” said a familiar voice close by as Gabriel came to. “Hey, careful, take it easy, mister.”</p><p>Gabriel frowned slightly without opening his eyes—the voice was younger, as it should have been, but not young enough. There was some kind of commotion going on in the background, and it took a moment for him to place the noises and smells as belonging in a hospital ER. That, the words he was hearing shouted about new patients, the approximate age of the presence hovering in front of him—</p><p>He cursed under his breath. He’d landed 23 years short of his mark.</p><p>He forced open his eyes to see the battered shade of the not-quite-deceased Dean Winchester looking around frantically. “Hey!” Dean called. “Got a stabbing victim over here! <i>Hey!!</i>”</p><p>“Forget it, Dean,” Gabriel groaned quietly. “They can’t hear you—and they can’t help me anyway.”</p><p>Dean looked down at him in shock. “Wait, wha-who-wha-huh?”</p><p>“I’ll... I’ll explain....” Talking was putting too much of a strain on his wound, and a trickle of grace leaked out around the hand he was using to hold the sword in place. When Dean’s eyes widened slightly, Gabriel decided to skip a few steps and uncloaked his wings. They were still hidden from mortal sight, but Dean fell back a step when he saw them.</p><p>“What are you?” Dean demanded, more awed than anything.</p><p>“Gabriel. M’name’s... Gabriel.”</p><p>Dean cursed quietly as he put the clues together. “What happened?”</p><p>“’S a... long story, but... I’m here... to make sure... you don’t die.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, no offense, but how do I make sure <i>you</i> don’t die? I mean, you... you’ve....”</p><p>“Sword? Yeah. Won’t... kill me yet. Just... stick close.” Gabriel closed his eyes to concentrate on getting to his feet, taking one hand off the sword with the intent of using that hand to push off the floor.</p><p>Before he could do so, however, Dean instinctively caught his hand and pulled him to his feet—inadvertently giving him a slight charge of power as he did so.</p><p>They stared at each other for a moment, panting, until Dean managed to gasp, “What... what was that?!”</p><p>Gabriel held up a finger, then focused on healing the wound enough that he could safely withdraw his sword. After he’d done both and caught his breath a little better, he explained, “Human... human souls... they’re powerful. An angel can... draw power from... touching a soul. I didn’t... didn’t mean....”</p><p>“Wait—touch—are you sayin’ I’m a <i>ghost?!</i>”</p><p>“Not yet. But your body’s... hurt bad. You all were, but... you worst. Look, let’s... let’s head someplace... less obvious, huh?”</p><p>Dean ran a hand over his nose and mouth. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Can I just....”</p><p>Gabriel shook his head. “No point. They can’t... see you, even if... if they’re awake. You can’t... too many docs. And you don’t... want to see....”</p><p>“Dammit, Gabriel—”</p><p>“They’ll be fine... John and Sam. ’S why... why I’m here. Partly. Let’s just....” Gabriel stowed his sword and began dragging himself toward an empty break room he sensed nearby.</p><p>Dean was clearly torn, but whether he realized there was nothing he could do at the moment for his brother and father or whether his native curiosity simply won out, he followed Gabriel cautiously. Once they got to the break room, Gabriel set out a chair for Dean and snapped up some coffee and three chocolate éclairs for himself. Dean tried to snitch an éclair but was foiled by the fact that he couldn’t grasp solid objects in this state. Gabriel didn’t tease him about it, though; he was too focused on gaining what energy he could from the sugar and caffeine.</p><p>Once he’d downed one éclair and half of the coffee, Gabriel finally made eye contact with Dean again. “Okay. Talking hurts, so short version: You, coma. John, guilty. Sam, fine. Car, not. John gives Sam list. Bobby and Sam get car. Bobby recognizes stuff on list as being for summoning. Sam brings stuff, picks fight with John. John summons Azazel.”</p><p>Dean blinked. “Who’s Azazel?”</p><p>“Yellow-Eyes.”</p><p>“What the <i>hell</i> is Dad gonna summon <i>him</i> for?!”</p><p>“Deal. Colt and his life for yours.”</p><p>Dean’s mouth fell open. “But—”</p><p>Gabriel held up a hand. “He loves you. And you matter.”</p><p>It took Dean a moment to get past all the low-self-esteem things that wanted to come tumbling out. He finally managed, “And why would Yellow-Eyes go for it?”</p><p>“Sam.”</p><p>“Why? Why Sam?”</p><p>“Long story short?” Gabriel picked up one éclair and turned it so the unfrosted side faced Dean. “You,” he said, pointing to the pastry. Then he pointed to the filling and said, “Michael.” He set that éclair down and picked up the other. “Sam,” he labeled the pastry, then pointed to the frosting. “Demon blood.” Then he pointed to the filling. “Lucifer.”</p><p>Dean turned so pale, he almost looked like a true ghost. “Is... is that... I mean, are you saying my brother is....”</p><p>“Not yet, no. That’s the plan, though. You’re Michael’s vessel. Sam is Lucifer’s. You both say yes; they duke it out; Mike kills Luci; and the world ends.”</p><p>“Say yes—you mean, possession?”</p><p>“In a sense. They need permission.” Gabriel looked at the ‘Lucifer’ éclair before taking an annoyed bite out of it.</p><p>Dean slumped back in the chair as he processed what Gabriel had just said. “So... so what do we do? How do we stop it?”</p><p>Gabriel swallowed. “’S why I’m here. It’s not Dad’s will.”</p><p>“Dad—you mean God.”</p><p>“Mm.”</p><p>“God sent you here to stop this.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Well, then, why <i>now?!</i> Where the hell were you when Mom died?”</p><p>Gabriel grimaced as the pain from his stab wound flared, and he pressed a hand to it. “’S where I was headed.”</p><p>Confused, Dean frowned and shook his head. “I... I don’t....”</p><p>“Forget it. If I can, I’ll explain later. Main thing is, I’m here now. I heal you, John doesn’t deal, and the whole thing goes off the rails.” Gabriel took another bite.</p><p>Dean gave him a long, searching look. “Can you? I mean, you just took a sword to the gut. That’s not something you just shake off, even as an archangel.”</p><p>Gabriel nodded and swallowed. “Have to go slow. Cover my tracks. Hide us all—me, you, and Sam. But I’ll do this, Dean.” He looked Dean in the eye. “I’ll do it if it kills me.”</p><p>Before Dean could come up with a response, they heard footsteps coming toward them down the hall. Dean looked at Gabriel, wide-eyed. Gabriel managed a smile and a wink before Sam trudged wearily into the break room.</p><p>“Sammy....” Dean stood up.</p><p>“Hey,” Sam said to Gabriel, oblivious to Dean’s presence. “This seat taken?”</p><p>“That one’s saved. This one’s free,” Gabriel replied, pointing to the chair that sat between his and Dean’s.</p><p>“Thanks.” Sam pulled out the chair Gabriel had indicated and dropped into it heavily.</p><p>Dean gave him a searching once-over before sitting down again.</p><p>“Problems?” Gabriel asked.</p><p>Sam groaned. “Like you wouldn’t believe. Just got t-boned by a semi; my dad and my brother are still unconscious.”</p><p>“You should be in bed.”</p><p>“Can’t. Not ’til I know they’re okay.”</p><p>“What good are you gonna do them if you collapse?”</p><p>Sam shook his head. “That’s not the point. They’re all I’ve got left, and... we were just starting to be a family again, but now... it’s like we’re at war.” Then he huffed. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”</p><p>“You’re fine.” Gabriel moved, grunting softly in pain as he shifted position. “War, huh?”</p><p>But Sam was instantly alert, his own troubles evidently forgotten for the moment. “Hey, are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m dyin’. But you’re what’s important right now.”</p><p>“Aw, come on,” Dean objected at the same time Sam replied, “ME?! I just got dinged up. I’ll be fine. What’s wrong with you? Do you need me to get a doctor?”</p><p>“Got one,” Gabriel smiled. “Tell me. Who are you at war with? Your family?”</p><p>Sam didn’t look too pleased at Gabriel’s refusal to drop the subject. “Well... yes and no. I mean, me and Dad, we have our problems. But that’s not....” He huffed again. “Tell me, do you believe in demons?”</p><p>Gabriel nodded, his smile gone. “Had a few dealings.”</p><p>Sam looked down at the table. “Yeah, well... so have we. Some days I wonder if all of Hell is after us.”</p><p>“Not all of Hell, no. Just one faction.”</p><p>Sam looked up, frowning. “Who are you?”</p><p>“A friend.”</p><p>“What do you know about me? About—about us? And how?” Sam didn’t seem sure whether to take that statement at face value or not.</p><p>Gabriel closed his eyes and opened them a few seconds later. “I know I can stop this attack on your family before someone dies.”</p><p>Sam shook his head a little. “How can I be sure I can trust you?”</p><p>“What can I do to prove it?”</p><p>Sam sighed, and Gabriel understood why; even if he didn’t already know the score, Sam was practically broadcasting his memories of events earlier in the evening. They hadn’t been able to detect Azazel with their usual tests. But then something occurred to Sam. “If you know about us... you probably know what’s going on with my brother right now.”</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>Sam nodded and considered how to phrase his request. “If I asked you how to make sure he recovers, what would you charge me?”</p><p>“Nothing. Because that’s why I’m here.”</p><p>“What... what do you mean? Are you a faith healer or something?”</p><p>“I can heal him. And you need to have faith.”</p><p>Sam swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay. Okay, I’ll trust you. What do you need?”</p><p>“For you to keep my presence a secret.”</p><p>“I can do that. Anything else? Supplies? Books? Anything?”</p><p>“I can hide you from the demon, but it will hurt for a few seconds.”</p><p>Sam blinked. “O-kay. Not that I object, ’cause I don’t, but why?”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Why do you need to hide me in order to heal my brother?”</p><p>“Because if the demon finds you, he’ll find your brother.”</p><p>“Why’s he so interested in Dean?”</p><p>Gabriel chuckled softly. “Now that is a long story.”</p><p>The corner of Sam’s mouth turned up. “Sorry, just... seemed like a random request. Go ahead.”</p><p>Gabriel reached out and laid his hand flat on Sam’s chest. There was a flash of light and a searing jolt of pain through his ribcage.</p><p>“HEY!” Dean objected, and then the brothers chorused, “What’d you do?”</p><p>“Warded you. In a way that can’t be undone even with broken bones.” Then a small pained noise escaped Gabriel as his wound flared again.</p><p>Dean reached out and touched his arm. Gabriel pulled in a deep breath as the pain eased and spared Dean the briefest flicker of a grateful glance—he wasn’t willing to alarm Sam by acknowledging that Dean’s soul wasn’t tethered too closely to his body at the moment.</p><p>Then he looked over at Sam again. “I’m... better now.”</p><p>Sam swallowed. “Look, are you sure I can’t get you anything?”</p><p>“Let me see your brother.”</p><p>Sam nodded. “Sure. Wait here; I’ll go see if they’ve moved him to a room yet.”</p><p>Gabriel nodded in return and watched him walk out. Then, as soon as Sam was out of earshot, Gabriel turned to Dean. “Thanks.”</p><p>Dean nodded. “Yeah. What did you do to him?”</p><p>“Sigils. I’ll do the same for you as soon as you’re stable enough for it not to cause problems.”</p><p>“Sigils? Where?”</p><p>“Ribs. All the way around.” Gabriel took another bite of éclair.</p><p>Dean’s eyes widened.</p><p>Gabriel chewed and swallowed and continued, “Won’t hide you from humans, but it will hide you from angels and demons both. And it matters, believe me, ’cause some of my brothers are just as invested in jump-starting the Apocalypse as Azazel is.”</p><p>Dean shook his head. “This is....”</p><p>“Yeah.” Gabriel popped the rest of the éclair into his mouth and downed it quickly.</p><p>Sighing, Dean rubbed his forehead. “Okay... what now?”</p><p>“Now, we wait for Sam to sneak me into your room. Then I’ll ward it, and then we’ll all get some rest. I want you to stick close, and not as a generator. Right now, you’re Reaper bait if you wander off.”</p><p>“Reaper? Like Grim Reaper?”</p><p>Gabriel nodded. “They’re neutral, really, unless they’re bound with a spell like that woman in Nebraska used. The one that’s here is just doing her job. But her job list includes you right now.”</p><p>Dean sighed. “All right. I’ll stick close.”</p><p>“Thanks. Should make my job easier.”</p><p>Dean reached to help him up.</p><p>Gabriel waved him off. “No, Dean, not unless I need it. Besides, Sam’s got a safer idea.”</p><p>Sam walked in seconds later, pushing a wheelchair. “They’ve moved Dad and Dean into separate rooms. Here. Even if you’re okay to walk, this’ll be faster.”</p><p>Gabriel smiled. “Thanks, Sam.”</p><p>Sam gingerly lifted Gabriel out of his chair and into the wheelchair. Then he handed Gabriel the last éclair and his coffee before pushing the wheelchair down the hall toward the room where Dean’s body was currently resting. Dean’s soul kept pace beside the wheelchair, and Gabriel, taking a page from Douglas Adams, used the energy he gained from polishing off the éclair and coffee to keep a small someone-else’s-problem field around the three of them so that they attracted no attention at all as they went.</p><p>They walked inside and Gabriel drew a sharp breath. He’d known Dean would be in bad shape, but he hadn’t expected this. “Oh, Father,” he breathed.</p><p>Sam introduced Gabriel to the nurse as the boys’ uncle, but Gabriel barely paid attention to the list of injuries she reeled off—most of the internal bleeding had been stopped and other injuries had been treated well enough to heal with time, but there were intracranial swelling and lesions on Dean’s brain that would kill him without a miracle.</p><p>Gabriel was there to bring the miracle, sure... but was he well enough to do it in time?</p><p>He licked his lips and reached out, stroking gentle fingers over Dean’s forehead. The gash on Dean’s forehead closed, and the monitor readings improved slightly—not enough to attract attention yet, and not enough to bring him out of the coma, but enough to get him out of immediate danger. Inside, the lesions started to heal. And beside him, the image of Dean’s shocked soul flickered, taking on the appearance of the body on the bed.</p><p>Then Gabriel pulled his hand back, reserving some energy, while Sam thanked the nurse and ushered her out of the room.</p><p>Dean gasped, “What did you just do?”</p><p>“Started the process,” Gabriel whispered. He also took stock of the private room, noting a recliner that was no doubt intended for any family member who might want to spend the night. Then, as Sam closed the door, he spoke up a little. “Hey, Sam... get me to a wall, would you?”</p><p>Sam came back into the main part of the room. “Sure, which one?”</p><p>“Any of ’em will do.”</p><p>Sam pushed the wheelchair to the far wall.</p><p>Gabriel took a deep breath, braced himself, and put his hand flat against the wall.</p><p>Dean moved closer. Sam took a step closer. “What are you doing?” rang in unison.</p><p>Gabriel just closed his eyes and released a burst of power, setting wards around the room that would be invisible to the human eye. Then he fell back in the chair with a pained gasp. “There... warded.”</p><p>“Hey... Gabriel?” Dean gasped.</p><p>“Sam... could you... recliner?”</p><p>Sam lifted the slight form and carried him to the recliner.</p><p>“Thanks... just... gotta rest. Go... go check on your dad?”</p><p>“You’re sure?” Sam asked. “Can I do anything?”</p><p>“No, it’s... it’s okay. I’ll be all right.”</p><p>Sam nodded and headed out.</p><p>Once the door was closed again, Gabriel finally looked over at Dean, eyebrows raised to acknowledge his question.</p><p>Dean met his eyes. “I feel... odd.”</p><p>Gabriel frowned a little. “Define... odd.”</p><p>“Stronger.”</p><p>“Stronger how?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Just... stronger.”</p><p>Gabriel shrugged with his eyebrows. “Huh. Could be... the wards, could be... physical... dunno.”</p><p>“I want to help you.”</p><p>“Dean....”</p><p>“Let me.”</p><p>Gabriel looked at Dean for a moment before sighing and nodding.</p><p>Dean’s hand closed over Gabriel’s forehead. As soon as it did, power flowed into Gabriel—power that he recognized as beyond human or angelic origin. It wasn’t enough to heal him, but it did ease the pain and refresh him.</p><p>He drew a deep breath and let it out again as Dean backed away. “Thanks, man.” <i>And thank You, Father</i>.</p><p>Dean nodded and looked at himself. “I look so sick.”</p><p>“Yeah. Well, you’re stable. I can’t heal you too fast, but... I’ll do more in a little while. Maybe get those sigils in place.”</p><p>Dean nodded again.</p><p>“And we’re safe here. So... hang loose, huh?”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>Gabriel nodded and leaned back with his eyes closed. He rested that way until Sam returned.</p>
<hr/><p>Sam chewed his lip anxiously as he made his way to his father’s room. When he got there, he met a nurse exiting the room.</p><p>She smiled. “Your father’s awake.”</p><p>He smiled back, relieved. “Thanks. How is he?”</p><p>“Angry.”</p><p>“Angry? About what?”</p><p>She shrugged.</p><p>He sighed. A grumpy Dad was not on the top of his list of things he wanted to deal with at the moment. “Okay. Thanks.”</p><p>She smiled again and walked away, leaving Sam to steel himself for the coming conversation. He took a deep breath and let it out again, then walked into the room.</p><p>John started talking as soon as Sam made it into the lighted part of the room. “Sam, thank G-d! They wouldn’t tell me anything! Have you seen your brother?”</p><p>“Hey, Dad,” Sam replied. “Yeah, I’ve seen him. He’s in pretty bad shape, but... he’s gonna pull through.” The mystery healer hadn’t told Sam <i>from whom</i> his presence needed to be kept secret, but Sam had a gut feeling that John was high on the list.</p><p>“Good, good. Here.” John painfully reached in and slid a card from his wallet. “This should cover the insurance.” Then he looked at him. “How are <i>you</i>, Sammy?”</p><p>Sam pocketed the card—bearing the name Elroy McGillicuddy?!—and shrugged. “I’m vertical.”</p><p>“Which tells me nothing. Did a doctor check you out?”</p><p>“Yeah. I’m a little banged up, but nothing too serious.”</p><p>“Good.” John tilted his head. “Eye, huh?” He traced where Sam was cut up. “Sight okay?”</p><p>Sam nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t get near anything vital.”</p><p>“Good.” John groaned.</p><p>“What’s the story with you?”</p><p>“Busted arm, shot in the leg... I’ll be fine.”</p><p>Sam nodded. “Good. Glad it’s nothing worse.”</p><p>John smiled slightly and leaned back, and Sam saw different sized pupils.</p><p>“Dad? Is... is your head okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine.”</p><p>“You sure? I mean...” Sam gestured toward his own eyes. “You’re... looking kind of concussed.”</p><p>“No big deal. Dean’s priority right now. I don’t know how long that card will hold, so we need to get out of here as soon as we can.”</p><p>“Dad, that might take a while. He’s in a coma.”</p><p>John went pale. “You said... you said he would be fine.”</p><p>“He will. But right now, it’s touch and go.”</p><p>John growled, “If you had shot me like I told you to—”</p><p>“Dad, I am <i>not</i> going to apologize for not killing you! You and Dean are <i>all I have</i>!”</p><p>“You had a chance to <i>stop</i> this once and for all!” John then winced and leaned back, eyes screwing shut as he battled his pain.</p><p>Sam wasn’t about to let the matter drop, however. “No. No, not if it meant destroying our family. Nothing is worth that, do you hear me?”</p><p>“Stopping this demon is everything, Sammy. <i>Everything</i>.”</p><p>“We’ll find another way, Dad. We’ll get you and Dean back on your feet, and <i>then</i> we’ll find Yellow-Eyes again. I am not letting either of you die, not even for this.”</p><p>John sighed deeply.</p><p>Sam shook his head. “I mean it, Dad. I don’t want you dead.”</p><p>“Let me rest.”</p><p>“Sure. I’ll be in Dean’s room.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>Sam really didn’t know what else to say that wouldn’t provoke another argument, so he sighed. “Night, Dad.” Then he left, intending to go outside to call Bobby and drop the insurance card at the nurses’ station before heading back to Dean’s room.</p><p>Unseen by Sam, John waited; then when the door closed, he opened his eyes, reached for a pad and pencil, and began to write.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Can of Worms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
Sensing Sam’s return, Gabriel opened his eyes.</p><p>“Hey,” Sam said quietly. “How are you?”</p><p>“Stronger.”</p><p>Sam nodded. “Good. Need anything?”</p><p>Gabriel shook his head. “Nah, not right now. Although... maybe you could pull the chair up to the bed? I can’t do too much at a time, but it would help not to have to get up every time.”</p><p>“Sure.” He moved the chair and Gabriel over, frowning slightly when he passed right through Dean as he did so.</p><p>“Thanks. You should get some rest, too, y’know.”</p><p>“I’ll rest once I know what’s going on.”</p><p>Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t expect the Spanish Inquisition.”</p><p>Dean chuckled. “<i>Nobody</i> expects the Spanish Inquisition....”</p><p>“But since I’m already in the comfy chair, fire away.”</p><p>Sam crossed his arms. “How are you healing him?”</p><p>“Very carefully.”</p><p>Sam growled.</p><p>“No, I’m serious. Not only am I wounded, I don’t want to attract undue attention—from anyone.”</p><p>“But <i>how</i> are you doing it? By what means? I mean, the wards, you just... put your hand out and <i>zap</i>.”</p><p>Gabriel sighed. “Okay, Sam. Cards on the table. My name is Gabriel.”</p><p>Sam frowned in confusion, but then his eyes flew wide as the implications hit him. “Gabriel... the <i>archangel</i>?”</p><p>Gabriel nodded.</p><p>“Are you serious?”</p><p>“Does a duck quack?”</p><p>“Yeah...”</p><p>Gabriel sighed. “Look, there’s not really a way for me to prove it to you right now without hurting myself. But yeah. I got wings. And Dad wants this attack on your family stopped. So, here I am.”</p><p>“What... how can we help?” Sam asked.</p><p>“Don’t tell John I’m here. That’s the main thing. The rest is up to me and Dad... and Dean.”</p><p>Sam nodded. “Dad might be coming to see Dean once he’s ambulatory.”</p><p>“Well, by then, we should all have had some rest, and I can get back in the wheelchair, make a quick exit into the bathroom while he’s here. You can chase him back to his room so he doesn’t ‘tire himself out.’” Gabriel put air quotes around that last phrase and winked.</p><p>Sam snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that.”</p><p>“Ah, I can summon a nurse if I have to. We can worry about it tomorrow, though. He’s not gonna be walking on a shot-up leg tonight.”</p><p>Sam nodded. “So what’s next?”</p><p>“You get some sleep. I’ll see if I can’t get comfortable enough to give Dean a low dose of healing over a longer period; maybe that won’t tax me too much.”</p><p>Sam nodded and curled up in a chair beside Dean’s bed. He was out in seconds.</p><p>Gabriel smiled fondly and glanced over at Dean. “You okay there, Deano?”</p><p>Dean shrugged. “Wanting this to be over.”</p><p>“I hear you.” Gabriel switched on the muted TV and settled back in the recliner and sighed. “Let’s see if this’ll work, shall we?”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>Gabriel took Dean’s physical hand and started slowly feeding healing power into the battered body. Dean’s soul flickered as ever so slowly, the injuries from Azazel’s assault and the damage to Dean’s brain from the wreck began to heal—still far faster than normal, even for a vessel, but not too fast. It would still be hours before he woke up, if not a day.</p><p>That should be just about right, Gabriel mused, given what John was planning. And none of his brothers would be able to twig to what Gabriel was doing—least of all Zachariah—until it would be too late for them to act even if they could get in the room. Gabriel had made sure they couldn’t and added a special lock to confound that smug little twit who’d always been one for bossing the younger angels around, especially Castiel.</p><p>With that, he leaned back and closed his own eyes, drifting to sleep as he allowed the power flow to continue. He was still dozing when the nurse came in to take Dean’s vital signs some time later.</p><p>“Hello?” she gasped, seeing him.</p><p>Gabriel took a deep breath and opened his eyes. “Hi.”</p><p>“Who are you?”</p><p>“I’m the boys’ Uncle Gabe.”</p><p>She smiled. “Well, Uncle Gabe, Dean seems to be improving.”</p><p>“Is he? That’s good news.”</p><p>“Very good. If he keeps this up, we might be able to take him down to an oxygen mask.”</p><p>“You think so? How soon?”</p><p>“Now, that’s up to the doctor.”</p><p>Gabriel nodded, pretending disappointment, and glanced over at Dean’s soul as she finished. The poor kid was clearly bored senseless and not even all that interested in the nurse, who was nice-looking but married (which Gabriel knew even if Dean didn’t). Instead, he was amusing himself by trying to make the channel change without touching the TV.</p><p>Gabriel chuckled quietly as the nurse left and closed the door behind her. “Looking for anything in particular, Dean?”</p><p>Dean huffed. “Nah. Just anything but infomercials.”</p><p>Gabriel smiled. “Well, they’d get suspicious of the Playboy Channel, so....” He snapped his fingers and launched a Marx Brothers marathon.</p><p>Dean laughed and settled on the window seat. “Thanks.”</p><p>Then Gabriel let himself drift off again. Angels normally didn’t need sleep, but wounded as he was, that level of rest was just what he needed to maintain the slow stream of power he continued to feed into Dean without weakening himself too much. He still had his doubts about being able to survive this mess, but he couldn’t afford to overtax himself... not yet.</p>
<hr/><p>
Sam woke two hours later—when they were putting the oxygen mask on Dean. He immediately sat bolt upright. “What’s goin’ on?!”</p><p>Gabriel smiled. “He’s off the vent.”</p><p>Sam swallowed hard and nodded. “Good—that’s... that’s good, right?”</p><p>“Very good.”</p><p>Sam nodded again, his sleep-fogged brain trying to catch up. “Uh. Has he woken up yet?”</p><p>“Not yet,” Gabriel sighed.</p><p>“Oh. Okay. Uh. How... how soon do they think it’ll be?”</p><p>“It’s too soon to tell,” replied the nurse. “His intracranial pressure’s coming down, though. The doctor wants another CT scan in a few hours; we’ll know better then how your brother’s doing.”</p><p>“Right. Okay. Thanks.” Sam relaxed back into the chair, though he kept watching the proceedings with the wide eyes of the suddenly awakened.</p><p>“You need some sleep, honey,” the nurse said.</p><p>“Had some. What time is it?”</p><p>“Three AM.”</p><p>“Mm.” Sam blinked slowly and cleared his throat. He was clearly determined to stay awake until the medical staff left the room, at minimum.</p><p>Dean grumbled something about the stubbornness of little brothers, and Gabriel had to fight a smile.</p><p>“Rest, honey,” the nurse repeated.</p><p>Sam shook his head. “Ma’am, no offense, but I don’t think I can sleep right now.” The <i>Get out of here and leave my brother alone</i> was thinly veiled, but Gabriel heard it anyway.</p><p>She smiled, and they finished and walked out.</p><p>Sam blew out a breath. “Sorry, Gabriel, I just....”</p><p>Gabriel chuckled. “You don’t have to explain to me.” Then he sighed. “Okay, since he’s breathing better on his own... I’d better do this now.” He moved his hand to Dean’s chest.</p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>“Same thing I did to you.” Gabriel took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and released the burst of power that would carve the sigils into Dean’s ribcage.</p><p>“I <i>felt</i> that!” Dean gasped, hand flying to his spectral chest.</p><p>Gabriel groaned in pain himself and slumped back in the chair. “There... safer.”</p><p>“Gabriel?” Sam was at his side. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“No, but... will be. Don’t... don’t worry about me, Sam.”</p><p>“I can’t help it—I want to fix you!”</p><p>Gabriel smiled and put a hand on Sam’s arm. “I know. Thank you. But there’s... nothing you can do. Although... maybe a soda or something?”</p><p>Sam nodded and jogged out for the machine.</p><p>“Dean?”</p><p>Dean came around to where Gabriel could see him</p><p>“You okay?”</p><p>“I feel... like I’m gonna vanish.”</p><p>“Healing’s... tying you back to your body.”</p><p>“It is. Will I remember this?”</p><p>“Maybe, maybe not. I won’t... tamper with things one way or the other.”</p><p>Dean nodded. “Then... bye, Gabriel.”</p><p>“See you soon, kid.”</p><p>And Dean faded away. Instantly his numbers improved.</p><p>Gabriel let his eyes slip closed. Having Dean’s soul out and about had been convenient, even if he had been reluctant to take too much power from someone he was supposed to be helping. Now... now he was on his own. And he needed some serious rest before he completed the process.</p><p>Sam brought him some soda and left it by his hand.</p><p>Gabriel stirred at that and opened his eyes. “Thanks, bud.” He took the soda and drank. The sugar seemed to perk him up. Then he looked over at Sam, who was watching him anxiously. “Listen, Sam... come morning, your dad’s... gonna give you a list of supplies he wants Bobby to get. Go ahead and bring ’em to John, even if they’re not what he claims.”</p><p>“All of them?”</p><p>“All of them.”</p><p>Sam nodded.</p><p>“And don’t give him too much grief about it, either.”</p><p>Another nod.</p><p>Gabriel nodded back. “Okay. If I’m asleep when you get back from dropping those things off, wake me up. I’ll need to finish pretty quick after that.”</p><p>“I will.”</p><p>“Good.” Gabriel finished the soda and settled back in the chair again. “And now I don’t know about you, but I need some more rest.”</p><p>Sam brought him a blanket.</p><p>Gabriel smiled and let his eyes drift shut. “Thanks, Sam.”</p>
<hr/><p>After breakfast and waiting through the latest round of tests on Dean, Gabriel fell back asleep and Sam went to check on John.</p><p>“Hey, Dad,” he said as he came into the room.</p><p>“Morning, son.” John smiled a little; he already looked somewhat better than he had the night before. “What’s new?”</p><p>“Dean’s improving. Steadily.”</p><p>“He awake yet?”</p><p>“Not yet, but they think soon.”</p><p>John sighed. “Soon. Last night you said it could take ‘a while.’ I’d get straighter answers from a fortune cookie.”</p><p>Sam spread his hands.</p><p>John shook his head. “I’m sorry, Sam. It’s not your fault; it’s these damn doctors. Look, what’d you do with the Colt?”</p><p>“It’s safe.”</p><p>“Good. Bring it to me, and see if you can get Singer to run down the supplies on this list.” John handed Sam a piece of notepaper.</p><p>Sam started to argue, but he remembered Gabriel’s words. “Okay.”</p><p>“It’s for protection,” John added, probably expecting more resistance.</p><p>“Okay,” Sam said again.</p><p>John searched Sam’s face, puzzled by the lack of argument, but then he nodded. “Good. Thanks.”</p><p>Sam nodded and left.</p><p>Bobby met Sam at the salvage yard where the police had towed the Impala. He didn’t try to argue when Sam made the case for trying to rebuild the car, but he frowned when Sam handed him John’s list. “What the hell is that idjit up to?” he muttered.</p><p>“He said it’s for protection.”</p><p>Bobby’s frowned deepened. “Protection? Sam, I recognize this list—they’re ingredients for a summoning spell.”</p><p>“Summoning what?”</p><p>“A demon, more’n likely.”</p><p>Sam swore.</p><p>“You want to tell him I couldn’t find the stuff?”</p><p>“I’ll tell him you’re looking.”</p><p>“What good’s that gonna do?”</p><p>“Might delay this a little bit.”</p><p>Bobby’s eyes narrowed. “Sam, be straight with me. Why the delay? What are you up to that you don’t want your daddy to know about?”</p><p>“I don’t know if....” He licked his lips. “Someone’s helping us.”</p><p>Bobby’s eyebrows shot up, and he nodded slowly. “And you think this... someone can get Dean back on his feet before John hauls off and does something stupid.”</p><p>“Pretty sure.”</p><p>“Have you paid attention to your dad lately? He doesn’t get a yes or no answer from you about the supplies, he’s gonna come after me himself, whether he can walk or not. And if he doesn’t, the only reason will be that he’s figured out you got help from a source you think he thinks isn’t legit, and I’m guessin’ you don’t want that, either.”</p><p>“Then I’ll tell him yes, but it’ll be a few hours. Good enough?”</p><p>Bobby sighed. “No, the only way he’ll buy the delay and not drive you nuts is if you stick with me. And it will take a few hours to get a couple of these things. So let’s get what we can here in town, get some lunch, and then get the rarer stuff.”</p><p>“I gotta get back to the hospital.”</p><p>“Sam, you know what he’ll say if you come back empty-handed.”</p><p>“It’s not him I gotta get back for.”</p><p>Bobby frowned again. “You worried about Dean?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Thought you said he was improving.”</p><p>“He is. That’s why I gotta be there!”</p><p>“Sam, slow down. You’re not makin’ sense. Now, I get that you’re worried about your brother, and I get that you ain’t gonna tell me who or what your mysterious helper is. But why is it so damn urgent that you get back to the hospital this minute and risk John doin’ something even more stupid if he finds out you didn’t bring him what he asked for?”</p><p>“Because he’s close to waking up.”</p><p>“How close?”</p><p>“Maybe only hours.”</p><p>“Well, then, that means you’ve got a couple of hours to keep everybody happy.”</p><p>“I guess.”</p><p>Bobby put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Look, just help me out with the stuff we can get here in town, and let me take you out to lunch. You’ll do better with a meal that’s not hospital food. Then you can call, see how Dean’s doing, see if they need you back right away. If they do, you can give John what we’ve bought so far and tell him I’ll bring the rest later. If not, you can come with me, save me an extra trip and the aggravation of telling him what I think of him.”</p><p>“Let’s go, then.”</p><p>Bobby nodded, and they headed out. Tracking down the locally available supplies took an hour, and lunch took another hour because apparently everyone in town had chosen to eat fast food that day. Then Sam called the hospital and learned that there had hardly been any change in Dean’s condition since he left.</p><p>Sam stifled a curse. “Can you connect me with his room? I need to talk to my uncle.”</p><p>Bobby frowned in confusion, but Sam ignored him in favor of listening for the answer on the other end.</p><p>And it came. “Sam?” Gabriel’s muzzy voice asked.</p><p>“Hey, um... about that list.”</p><p>Gabriel sighed. “Bring. It. All. And take your time. I need more rest; I probably won’t be up to doing any more until tonight.”</p><p>“But—”</p><p>“I know what he’s planning, Sam. It’s not what you think. It’s not going to work like he thinks, either, but we have to time the last part just right for all the pieces to fall into place.”</p><p>“So you—”</p><p>“Sam. Do you trust me?”</p><p>Sam sighed deeply. “Yes. I trust you.”</p><p>“Okay, then. I know it doesn’t make sense right now, but I give you my word as God’s Messenger that if you do as I ask, I can heal Dean, stop the demons, and save your life and your father’s as well. We’ll all be fine until you get back. There’s no rush.”</p><p>“You’re sure?”</p><p>“I’m sure.”</p><p>“Okay. I’ll be back in a while. Thanks.” Sam hung up and sighed again, his gaze fixed on the middle of the table.</p><p>“What’s the verdict?” Bobby asked.</p><p>“Dean’s... not going to wake up until tonight. And I’m supposed to bring Dad the whole thing, everything that’s on the list.”</p><p>Bobby nodded slowly. “Okay. If your friend wants John out of the way, maybe tusslin’ with the demon’s as good a diversion as any.”</p><p>Sam huffed. “I guess. I just... I don’t get it. Why does he have to after the demon <i>now</i>? Why can’t he wait until Dean’s better?”</p><p>“If I knew that, I could run for president.” Bobby patted Sam’s arm. “C’mon, boy. Let’s get this over with.”</p>
<hr/><p>After hanging up from talking to Sam, Gabriel eased himself into the wheelchair and wheeled over to the radiator. Flying down to the boiler room would take too much energy, and going down in the wheelchair would attract too much attention, but touching the radiator would get him close enough. Then he closed his eyes and sought an image of the standoff that would occur later that evening. Once he saw where John, Azazel, and Azazel’s henchdemons would be placed, he sent a burst of power down through the pipes to set a series of devil’s traps, powerful enough to trap even Azazel but hidden until a demon actually appeared under one.</p><p>He was still recovering from the exertion when he heard limping footsteps in the hall.</p><p>There was no time to hide. Gabriel could only throw a blanket over himself and send an attention-getting signal to the nurse before John limped into the room, his eyes only on Dean. John breathed out long and low, then sank into the recliner and just sat there—staring.</p><p>A long moment passed before the nurse came into the room. “Sir? Mr. McGillicuddy, you’re really not supposed to be out of bed yet.”</p><p>“My son...”</p><p>“He’s stable. Now come on, we need to get you back to your own room.”</p><p>John just stared. “He’s my son...” His brain seemed to have fuzzed out.</p><p>“I know, sir. He’s getting the best of care. And we’ll let you know as soon as there’s any significant change. Now, please....” She took hold of John’s arm.</p><p>John hissed and stood.</p><p>“That’s it. He had a good night; we’ll let you know if there’s more change one way or the other. Come on.”</p><p>He turned for one last look at Dean, and his eyes slid right over Gabriel. But he wasn’t processing anything at the moment other than how terrible Dean looked. He was more determined than ever to go through with his plan, Gabriel could tell, and wondering where in the world Sammy was.</p><p>“Let’s go, sir,” the nurse repeated, kindly but firmly, and pulled John out of the room.</p><p>As soon as the coast was clear, Gabriel pulled the blanket off his head and sighed. That had been way too close. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to sink. Rest now. Sam would be back all too soon... and then it would be show time.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Short Circuit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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The buzz of the hospital room phone woke Gabriel six hours later. “H’lo?” he answered.</p><p>“I got everything,” said Sam. “Bring it to you or to Dad?”</p><p>“John. How far out are you?”</p><p>“’Bout half an hour.”</p><p>“Okay. I’m gonna doze again until you get here. Take the stuff to John first, and then come wake me.”</p><p>“He’s expecting a fight.”</p><p>“Don’t give him too much of one. He’s seen Dean.”</p><p>“No change?”</p><p>“No change. Haven’t been up to it.”</p><p>“Rest, then. I’ll see you after I scuffle with Dad.”</p><p>Gabriel chuckled and hung up.</p>
<hr/><p>Sam knocked and walked into John’s room. He didn’t have to fake the anger, but he kept it toned down. “Here’s the stuff.”</p><p>John looked at him. “What’s with you?”</p><p>“This stuff—it’s not for protection! It’s for summoning!”</p><p>John sighed. “I have a plan, Sam.”</p><p>“You have a plan. Your son is <i>hurt</i> and <i>you</i> have a <i>plan</i>.”</p><p>“I’m doing this for Dean.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Yes, really. I don’t care if you believe me or not.”</p><p>Sam groaned and threw his hands in the air. “I’m going to check on Dean.”</p><p>“All right.”</p><p>Sam stomped into the hallway and breathed to calm himself down. Then he went into Dean’s room and woke Gabriel. “Delivered.”</p><p>Gabriel drew a deep breath and sat up. “Good. Thanks. Could you get me some coffee? Think I could use the caffeine.”</p><p>“Way ahead of you.” He produced a cup he’d set on the bedside table. “Hope you like it with sugar. Grabbed it instead of creamer.”</p><p>“Perfect. The more sugar, the merrier.”</p><p>“Okay. How about this?” He smiled and pulled two more packets from his pocket.</p><p>Gabriel smiled back and held out the cup. Sam emptied the packets into it, and Gabriel stirred and guzzled the coffee quickly. Then he handed the empty cup back to Sam, took a deep breath, and let it out again. “Okay. Let’s do this.”</p><p>Sam threw the trash away. “What do you need?”</p><p>“Just close the door and stay close.”</p><p>Sam obeyed. Gabriel took another deep breath, picked up Dean’s hand and closed his eyes. The monitor numbers immediately began improving slowly.</p>
<hr/><p>Meanwhile, John cautiously made his way down to the boiler room with the duffle Sam had brought him. With any luck, he could get this over with before Sam figured out that he wasn’t planning to <i>hunt</i> Azazel.</p><p>He found a place and laid his supplies out. Then he cautiously chalked the sigil, placed and lit the candles, and put the ingredients into the bowl. He drew his knife and sliced his palm. As the blood dripped into the bowl, he chanted the spell, then struck a match and dropped it in.</p><p>A hand landed on his shoulder. “Hey—what are you doing in here?”</p><p>John turned to face the man who’d grabbed him. “I can explain!”</p><p>“I’m sure you can! To the judge, buddy!”</p><p>Annoyed, John pulled the Colt. “Hey. How stupid do you think I am?”</p><p>“Hey, buddy! Put that away!”</p><p>John cocked the gun and aimed it. “Drop the act, Azazel.”</p><p>The man—the demon—stepped back a step and chuckled, eyes going yellow. “My, my. You’re good.”</p><p>Two other demons appeared and stalked around behind John while Azazel stepped back from him a bit—and something barely perceptible shifted in the atmosphere. John couldn’t tell what or why, and none of the demons seemed to notice it.</p>
<hr/><p>Upstairs in Dean’s room, Gabriel sensed that the demons were under his traps. He paused, took another deep breath, and looked at Sam. “Sam, be ready to move fast.”</p><p>“Tell me what to do.”</p><p>“Watch. You’ll know when it’s time.” Gabriel closed his eyes again and started pouring power into Dean faster. His wound flared painfully, but he ignored it. He made sure all the other injuries were healed before turning his focus back to Dean’s brain.</p><p>Sam readied himself. Then his eyes widened as the intracranial pressure monitor fell out of the back of Dean’s head and the hole the doctors had bored in his skull closed.</p><p>Gabriel kept pouring power into Dean, healing the last of the bruises—and Dean gasped as his eyes flew open.</p><p>“Dean!” Sam raced to his side.</p><p>“Sammy!” Dean replied, though his voice was muffled by the oxygen mask.</p><p>“Dean, Dean...” Sam slid the mask off of him.</p><p>Gabriel slumped back in the chair, pressing hard on the wound that had reopened, and turned his attention to what was happening downstairs.</p>
<hr/><p>In the boiler room, Azazel was taunting John about his proffered deal, and John had finally had enough. “Can you bring Dean back, yes or no?”</p><p>Azazel opened his mouth to reply, and suddenly the smirk fell off his face. “I—I can’t find him.”</p><p>John frowned.</p><p>“His soul is hidden from me. I can’t understand it.”</p><p>“So the answer is no.”</p><p>“No... this... this shouldn’t be possible—I should have been able to....”</p><p>John interrupted, “Tell me this... why did you kill my Mary?”</p><p>“She interrupted me. If she’d gone back to bed, she would have lived.”</p><p>“Interrupted you doing what?”</p><p>Azazel chuckled. “As if you don’t know by now.”</p><p>John’s eyes narrowed. “You fed Sammy your blood. Gave him psychic powers.”</p><p>“Prepared him for his destiny.”</p><p>“Sammy’s destiny is his <i>own</i>.”</p><p>Azazel chuckled again, more cruelly. “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. If you had any idea of the big picture here, you would know better than to say a stupid thing like that. But ooh, that Mary, she had spunk. Kind of hated to kill her... she always was my favorite,” he added with a leer.</p><p>“And Jess?”</p><p>“Well, we couldn’t let Sammy settle down to a job and a wife, white picket fence and 2.5 kids, could we?”</p><p>John snarled. “You want him to rule Hell?”</p><p>“Oh, it’s more than that, Johnny. So much more than that.”</p><p>“And what about Dean?”</p><p>“Like I said, he’s not much of a threat.”</p><p>“No. But I am.” John raised the Colt and fired in one smooth motion.</p>
<hr/><p>Upstairs, Sam and Dean froze at the distant sound of a gunshot. Gabriel immediately snapped his fingers, and the still-smoking Colt was in his hand. He couldn’t suppress a grunt of pain, but he cooled the gun and wrapped his free hand first around the cylinder, then around the barrel. “There,” he gasped, handing the gun to Sam. “Works... iron... or silver.”</p><p>“Iron or silver bullets?”</p><p>Gabriel nodded and groaned as grace started leaking from the wound.</p><p>“Gabriel?”</p><p>Gabriel manifested his still-bloodstained sword and handed it to Dean. “Take this... this address.” He handed over a piece of paper with the address of his present-day self. “Get your dad... and get lost.”</p><p>“Okay...” Dean gasped. “Gabriel, what....”</p><p>“Go NOW!”</p><p>Dean pulled the IV and monitors and grabbed Sam, pulling him out of the room. Gabriel held on until they were out of the room, then cried out in pain and let himself go.</p>
<hr/><p>In the hall, Sam and Dean stopped again as they heard a sound like a bomb going off in the room.</p><p>“Gabriel!” Sam gasped.</p><p>Dean gaped. “He... He’s gone.”</p><p>A few blackened bits of down floated out into the hallway.</p><p>Dean slid the sword into Sam’s jacket. “C’mon, dude. Let’s get Dad and get out of here.”</p><p>“But—”</p><p>Dean’s voice broke as he said, “We can’t help him now.”</p><p>A tear slipped down Sam’s cheek, but he let Dean pull him away, and they jogged to the basement. Sam passed Dean the Colt as they went.</p><p>John had just exorcised the remaining, inexplicably trapped demons and turned in shock as the boys ran into the room. “Dean! Sammy! What—”</p><p>“We gotta go!” Dean yelled. “Now!”</p><p>John grabbed his bag and hobbled to the boys, who all but carried John up the stairs and out to Sam’s rental car, which Sam immediately pointed toward Sioux Falls.</p><p>“The Colt’s gone,” John groaned as they cleared the city limits. “Used the last bullet, and it vanished out of my hand.”</p><p>Dean reached into his shirt and asked casually, “You mean this?” He held the gun out to John.</p><p>John blinked, took it from Dean, and examined it. “No, this... this gun has a round barrel.”</p><p>“Same gun,” Sam said.</p><p>“Gabriel did something to it,” Dean added.</p><p>Sam nodded.</p><p>John frowned. “Gabriel? Who’s Gabriel?”</p><p>“Archangel,” his boys chorused.</p><p>John’s frown deepened. “There’s no such thing.”</p><p>“Then how am I healed?” Dean challenged.</p><p>“That’s a good question. What did happen back there?”</p><p>They told him.</p><p>John shook his head. “Boys, I’m sorry. I just... find it hard to believe that was really an angel.”</p><p>“Not for me,” Sam said. “I interacted with him.”</p><p>“So did I,” Dean said.</p><p>“I’m sure that’s what he said he was. But your mama... your mama always....” John trailed off, not able to finish the thought.</p><p>“Mom always said angels were watching over us,” Dean said firmly.</p><p>“And look what happened.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Sam ground out. “We <i>survived</i>. To <i>avenge</i> her.”</p><p>John slumped back in the seat, unable to come up with a counter.</p><p>“And we’ve saved hundreds of lives, Dad,” Dean put in. “<i>Hundreds</i>.”</p><p>“Yet Hell doesn’t view you as a threat,” John replied quietly.</p><p>“Hell doesn’t know what it’s talking about,” Sam laughed.</p><p>“This isn’t funny, Sam. The demon... he... told me some things about you.”</p><p>“Then tell me,” Sam said.</p><p>When John didn’t respond right away, Dean said, “I’ll save you the trouble. Sam’s got demon blood in him.”</p><p>Sam nearly swerved.</p><p>“And the end game in all of this is that Michael is supposed to possess me; Lucifer’s supposed to possess Sam; and the world’s supposed to end.”</p><p>“Wh... WHAT?” Sam yelped.</p><p>“That’s what Gabriel told me. He also said it’s not what God wants to have happen. That’s why he healed me, Dad, to stop you from making that deal.”</p><p>“’Cause that would have set it in motion,” Sam realized.</p><p>“Yeah. He didn’t explain how, but... that makes sense. What were you <i>thinking</i>, huh?” Dean asked.</p><p>John sighed. “Dean... I... I couldn’t let you die.”</p><p>“And you didn’t think killing yourself wouldn’t make me die inside?”</p><p>“It wouldn’t have been suicide! I was trading my life for yours—same as if I’d taken a bullet for you!”</p><p>“Dammit, Dad!”</p><p>“I didn’t know what else to do! I couldn’t lose you like I lost Mary! I just.... No father should outlive his son.”</p><p>Sam swore bitterly. “Dad, I <i>told</i> you he was going to be FINE!”</p><p>“Once again, you don’t believe us,” Dean growled.</p><p>John lapsed into stubborn silence.</p><p>Dean leaned forward and actually slapped the back of his father’s head. “Stop that! Start trusting us!”</p><p>John hissed and snarled instinctively. But when Dean didn’t back down, John sighed. “I’m... I’m sorry, boys. I’m just having trouble trusting anyone these days.”</p><p>“Then trust <i>us</i>. We’re your <i>sons</i>, for Heaven’s sake!”</p><p>John sighed again. “I’ll try, Dean. I’ll... I’ll try.”</p><p>“Do or do not. There is no try,” Dean shot back, sitting back again.</p><p>John’s eyes narrowed. “Thanks, Yoda.”</p><p>Sam chuckled softly.</p>
<hr/><p>Bobby met the Winchesters outside when they pulled into the salvage yard. “Well, you three know how to make an exit,” he said as they got out of the car.</p><p>“Oh?” Dean asked.</p><p>“It’s all over the news... that hospital where you were stayin’? Shooting and bombing, only they can’t find the bomb. Only one victim in each case, and that bombing victim? They said there were scorch marks around ’im, looked like bird’s wings.”</p><p>Sam and Dean looked at John as if to say “SEE?”</p><p>“Now there ain’t too much lore out there about things with wings, but I got just one question for you, Sam. How the <i>hell</i> did you find an angel, and what the hell happened to him?”</p><p>“He found us,” Sam said. “And he died.”</p><p>“Showed up with a sword in his gut,” Dean added. “Didn’t get a chance to tell me how it got there.”</p><p>“But everything he did was to help us,” Sam finished.</p><p>Bobby nodded slowly. “All right. Doesn’t tell me much, but I’ll take your word for it. Dean, good to see you vertical.”</p><p>“Good to be vertical,” he said as they walked in.</p><p>“And John, looks like your dumb stunt didn’t do too much of a number on you this time.”</p><p>John shrugged and winced. “I didn’t get a chance to go through with it.”</p><p>“Just as well, too, ya idjit. What the hell were you thinking?”</p><p>“I just wanted my boy well.”</p><p>“And summoning a demon fits in with that how?”</p><p>“I thought he just wanted the Colt. If I gave him that, he might leave the boys alone.”</p><p>This time Bobby’s assessment was stated in surround sound: “Idjit.”</p><p>John frowned. “Huh?”</p><p>Sam rolled his eyes. “Dad, what made you think a demon would be satisfied with a <i>gun</i>?”</p><p>“I... I thought....” John’s unbroken arm rose, and his hand rubbed across his forehead.</p><p>“No, you didn’t think! That’s the problem!”</p><p>“I can’t...” John half-groaned.</p><p>Dean frowned. “Dad? You okay?”</p><p>“My head...” He raised his eyes, and even in the dimmed light of the living room they could see one pupil was larger than the other.</p><p>Sam cursed guiltily. “He’s still concussed. Dad, I’m so sorry.”</p><p>Bobby shook his head. “Well, that explains that half-assed plan.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Dean replied, “but apparently deals don’t require the deal-maker to be in his right mind. It’s a damn good thing Gabriel got to me in time.”</p><p>“I need to lay down,” said John, his words starting to slur a little.</p><p>Sam steered John to Bobby’s couch and got him settled while Dean went after aspirin and a glass of water.</p><p>Bobby followed, and when Dean handed the pills off, he pulled Dean aside. “How are you, boy? Really?”</p><p>Dean shrugged. “I’m fine.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“He healed me, Bobby. What do you want me to say?”</p><p>“Enough that you can work on your car?”</p><p>The muscle in Dean’s jaw twitched—slightly, barely noticeably, but Bobby had known this boy most of his life and could tell there was more going on than he was willing to reveal. “Yeah,” Dean said, a shade too brightly. “Yeah, I need my baby back. Sooner she’s fixed, sooner we can find this guy Gabriel told us to meet.”</p><p>“All right, then. Go get changed and I’ll meet you out there soon as I get your brother and daddy settled.”</p><p>Dean nodded and hurried off—too fast, too eager.</p><p>Bobby sighed, then turned back to the couch and walked over. Sam was clearly still on a low simmer about John’s attempt to deal with the demon, concussion or no. He was also clearly making an effort to keep a lid on it because John wasn’t thinking straight enough to appreciate the argument he was formulating.</p><p>“Sam. I think you lost your audience.”</p><p>Sam frowned slightly, confused.</p><p>“He’s asleep.”</p><p>Sam looked down at the couch, and sure enough, John was out cold. He sighed. “I still can’t believe he was going to do that.”</p><p>“He loves you boys. He’ll do anything to keep you safe.”</p><p>“Including selling his soul to the devil.” Sam shook his head. “That would have killed Dean.”</p><p>“But it didn’t.”</p><p>“No, it didn’t. Didn’t kill Dad, either. Thanks to Gabriel.”</p><p>Bobby sighed. “Wish he hadn’t died. Dean’s takin’ that hard.”</p><p>“Yeah.” That one quiet word was all Bobby needed to hear to know that Sam was taking it just as hard as Dean was.</p><p>“He’s hidin’ it well, though.”</p><p>Sam huffed. “You know Dean.”</p><p>“I do. And I know you.”</p><p>Sam glanced over at Bobby and didn’t even try to hide the pain he was feeling. “I just... wish I could have done something.”</p><p>“You did. You worked with him. Come on, you’re banged up too.”</p><p>“I’m fine, Bobby.”</p><p>“Don’t recall leavin’ it up for debate.”</p><p>Sam huffed again, but this time the smile that came with the huff was a little broader, a little fonder.</p><p>“C’mon. I’ll take care of your daddy. Let him sleep awhile.”</p><p>Sam sighed and followed Bobby out of the room.</p><p>After getting Sam settled, Bobby walked out to the yard where he had the Impala stored to check on Dean. If Dean had had any sort of breakdown over the condition of his beloved car, it was well over. He was walking around her with a look of intense concentration, probably strategizing how to undertake the repairs. So Bobby hung back and watched for a few minutes.</p><p>Finally, Dean looked up and saw him. “Oh, hey, Bobby.”</p><p>“Hey. How’s it going?”</p><p>Dean shrugged with his eyebrows. “Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me.”</p><p>“Looks like.” Before he could ask, Bobby reported, “I sent your brother to bed. He’s banged up, too.”</p><p>Dean grimaced. “Feel kind of bad for hoggin’ all the angel mojo. What all’s wrong with Sam?”</p><p>“Cut up and exhausted. Not quite sure he’s hearin’ right outta that side, but he can see okay.”</p><p>Dean nodded slowly. “Well, we’ve had worse. Think sleep’s all he’ll need, or do we need to get him to a doctor for his ear?”</p><p>“We’ll try sleep. Then go from there. Gotta go back inside in a half to check on your dad.”</p><p>“Okay. In the meantime, could you check that I’m not goin’ crazy with this repair plan?”</p><p>“Sure, lay it on me.”</p><p>Dean started rattling off ideas—from straightening the frame to replacing the damaged trim and repairing the upholstery. Bobby nodded at each one.</p><p>When he’d finished, Dean paused. “How long you think all that will take?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Why? You in a hurry?”</p><p>Dean sighed. “Before... Gabriel gave us something to do, someone we’re supposed to contact. I need to wait for Sam to heal, but....”</p><p>“But you wanna get to this person.”</p><p>Dean nodded, the muscles in his jaw tense.</p><p>“Then you work on this car and let your brother heal up.”</p><p>Dean nodded again, more decisively. “Yeah. I’ll do that.”</p>
<hr/><p>The next week seemed to fly by for Bobby; he was in four places at once. Not only did he have three Winchesters to manage, but the phones were ringing off the hook. Every night he’d go to bed with a headache. Sam did try to help, but keeping him and John clear of each other was a job in itself. Dean, at least, was easier to keep tabs on, since he was spending every waking moment he could working on his car. He even let Sam help now and again.</p><p>Bobby noticed something, however, and he brought it up with John one morning. “How’s the head?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” John growled, but the way he rubbed at his forehead gave the lie to that.</p><p>“No, you’re not.” He sighed. “Need to talk to you.”</p><p>“About?”</p><p>“Dean.”</p><p>John frowned. “What about Dean?”</p><p>“He’s all but stopped talkin’ again.”</p><p>John paled.</p><p>“He’s been through hell and back. It’d do it. But he don’t need you goin’ half-cocked on him.”</p><p>John rubbed at his head again. “Dammit, Bobby,” he breathed.</p><p>“How’d he start talkin’ again?”</p><p>“I... I don’t... I can’t remember now. Has he said <i>anything</i> to you?”</p><p>“Just about the parts he needs.”</p><p>John sighed and pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll go check on him.”</p><p>“John—be gentle.”</p><p>John huffed. “I ain’t up to a fight, Bob.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>With that, John limped outside to the shop. Dean was working hard. Like always.</p><p>“Hey, son,” John called.</p><p>“Dad!” He smiled. “You’re up!”</p><p>“Yeah, for the moment. How’s it coming?”</p><p>“Good. How’s she looking?”</p><p>“Better. Startin’ to look like herself again.”</p><p>Dean beamed.</p><p>John grinned, but then his smile faded. “Son, talk to me. What’s going on?”</p><p>Dean looked at him, frowning.</p><p>“Bobby says you’re barely speaking to him.”</p><p>“Just don’t have much to say, I guess.”</p><p>John raised an eyebrow at that.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You do remember the last time this happened, don’t you?”</p><p>“Dad... I’m <i>fine</i>. This isn’t like when Sammy left.”</p><p>John huffed. “All right. Forget I said anything.”</p><p>Dean nodded and went back to work. John watched him sadly for a moment before hobbling back to the house. Bobby met him at the door.</p><p>“He says he’s fine.” John sighed. “I think it’s that damn angel. But if he’s taking <i>that</i> death this hard....” He broke off, shaking his head.</p><p>“What would yours have done to him?”</p><p>“I... I didn’t think there was any other way,” John said plaintively. “Why didn’t Sam tell me?”</p><p>“So this is my fault?” Sam growled, coming up behind him.</p><p>John rubbed at his head again. “Sam, let’s not fight, huh? Half the time we fight, I don’t even know what we’re fighting about.”</p><p>Sam blinked. “Huh. Me either.”</p><p>“Go check on your brother, would you?” John limped wearily into the house without waiting for a reply.</p>
<hr/><p>Dean smiled as Sam approached.</p><p>“Hey,” Sam called, smiling back at him.</p><p>Dean nodded.</p><p>“How’s it coming?”</p><p>“Closing in!”</p><p>“Awesome! How long do you think it’ll be?”</p><p>Dean shrugged. “Maybe three... four.”</p><p>“Days?”</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>Sam nodded thoughtfully. “Look. I’m goin’ a little stir-crazy, I think, and Dad’s still not back on his feet all the way, so... you want to see if Bobby would lend us a car so we can go check out this address Gabriel gave us?”</p><p>“Can’t wait a couple more days?”</p><p>“I mean, if you’d rather finish the car first, that’s fine, but... I don’t know how much longer Dad and I can go without blowing up at each other.”</p><p>“Hmm. I’d feel better if we waited on the Impala. Gimme till tomorrow and we’ll see how it goes.”</p><p>“Okay, if you’re sure. Need any help?”</p><p>“Yeah, hand me things.” Dean crawled under on a creeper.</p><p>“Sure, sure.” Sam stationed himself by the toolbox.</p><p>Over the next three hours, tools flew between them. Words, however, were few. Sam tried a couple of times to ask Dean how he was feeling, but Dean wouldn’t talk about anything but the car.</p><p>Eventually, though, Dean got up and started the car, beaming as it roared to life. Days had just become hours.</p><p>Sam grinned. “Dude. You’re awesome.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“So is this it? Are we good to go?”</p><p>“We need to pack.”</p><p>“Started packing this morning.”</p><p>Dean nodded.</p><p>Sam slapped him on the back. “C’mon. Let’s get a move on.”</p><p>Dean’s only reply was a smile.</p>
<hr/><p>Sam waited until they were several hours down the road to say, “So. You still feeling okay?”</p><p>“Sure. Just lookin’ forward to finding out who Gabriel sent us to get.”</p><p>“Yeah, me too. This address is close to a college campus—professor, maybe?”</p><p>Dean shrugged.</p><p>Sam sighed. “C’mon, Dean, <i>talk</i> to me. This strong, silent thing of yours, it’s getting old. I feel guilty about Gabriel, too, but....”</p><p>“What? Guilty? I’m sad he died, but I don’t feel guilty!”</p><p>“Sure. He only spent the last day of his life pouring all his energy into you to make sure you would survive without Dad having to sell his soul, and you’re <i>sad</i>.”</p><p>“He saved my life, Sammy. He saved our family!”</p><p>“Exactly! Look, I’m grateful, I am, but he <i>died</i> for us. You think I’m not wishing there were some way I could have saved him? You think I haven’t forgotten what you went through the last time someone died in your place?”</p><p>“I’ll be fine!”</p><p>“Dean, you’re barely talking to anybody right now. How is this healthy? How is this dealing with it?”</p><p>Dean growled softly.</p><p>Sam huffed. “Look, I don’t care how you deal with it. But you need to, man. I just... I just want to be sure you’re okay.”</p><p>“I’ll be okay once we find out what Gabriel wanted.”</p><p>Sam sighed and decided it was time to accept defeat for this round. “All right, fine.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>The only sounds for the next hundred miles were a tape of AC/DC’s greatest hits and the rumble of the Impala’s rebuilt engine.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Loki</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
It took some doing to navigate past the college to the apartment address Gabriel had given Dean. For one thing, it didn’t seem to be listed. The brothers scoured the complex looking for it before locating it in the basement of one of the buildings.</p><p>They exchanged a look, and then Dean said, “Here goes nothin’,” and knocked.</p><p>There was a call of “Just a second!” And moments later, a familiar individual opened the door.</p><p>The brothers gasped in stereo. “Gabriel?!”</p><p>The figure in the doorway froze. “Uh, sorry, you’ve got the wrong guy.” He quickly tried to slam the door shut, but Sam blocked it open with his foot.</p><p>“No—I don’t think so.” Sam pushed at the door, sending the surprised figure stumbling.</p><p>“Hey, hey, look, take it easy. I’m not....”</p><p>“Show him, Dean.”</p><p>Dean drew Gabriel’s sword.</p><p>The other man’s jaw dropped as he went pale. “Where’d you get that?”</p><p>“If you’re not Gabriel... shouldn’t matter, should it?” Dean said casually.</p><p>They stared at each other for a moment before the other man—Gabriel—said, “Oh, it matters. ’Cause that’s my sword... and it’s got my blood on it.”</p><p>“So you’re admitting you’re Gabriel,” Sam said slowly.</p><p>Gabriel looked over at him. “I... kind of have to... unless you’d rather call me Loki?” That last sounded a little awkwardly hopeful.</p><p>Both brothers grinned. “You’re more comfortable with that?” Dean asked.</p><p>Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck. “See, the thing is... I’m kind of in my own version of Witness Protection right now. Have been for a long time. Wasn’t expecting <i>you</i> mooks to show up on my doorstep, though.”</p><p>“Loki it is, then.” Dean put the sword away. “Small concession to the archangel who saved my family.”</p><p>“Yeah, see, that’s the problem.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“We’ve... never met.”</p><p>Dean blinked. “What are you talking about? Weren’t you just—”</p><p>“That wasn’t me, Dean. At least, not... <i>me</i> me.”</p><p>The brothers started talking at the same time, trying to tell Gabriel—Loki—the story.</p><p>Loki held up a hand after about three sentences. “I believe you. I’m not saying you met an impostor. I’m saying that wasn’t <i>me</i>, not... not present-day me.” At their confused frowns, he continued, “Look, time is fluid. Angels can bend it, travel through it.”</p><p>“You saved my family,” Dean said, spreading his hands. “Enabled Dad to kill Azazel—”</p><p>“<i>Future</i>-me did, yeah. But I’m a little confused as to why I’d even bother. I’m trying to stay out of it right now.”</p><p>Sam frowned. “Maybe Azazel had something going on that was so big it’d affect you.”</p><p>Loki sighed and held out his hand. “Lemme see the sword. Maybe I can pick up what happened from it.”</p><p>Dean handed it to him hilt-first. Loki took it, and the color slowly drained out of his face as he examined it.</p><p>“Loki?” Sam asked, concerned.</p><p>Loki didn’t respond, just cursed under his breath.</p><p>“Loki, what is it?” Dean asked.</p><p>“Lucifer. I... I tried to kill Lucifer ’cause I thought that was what Dad wanted, but he got the jump on me.”</p><p>“Lucifer?” they chorused, then Dean stammered out, “You—you mean like <i>Satan</i> Lucifer?”</p><p>Loki nodded. “He’s under lock and key right now, but... Azazel’s been planning to spring him all along.”</p><p>“But Azazel’s dead now....” Sam said.</p><p>Loki shrugged. “Little ahead of schedule. It’s your dad being alive that’s more of a problem from Hell’s perspective.”</p><p>“WHAT?” they chorused. “How?”</p><p>“John was supposed to trade his life for Dean’s. Dean, in turn, was supposed to sell his soul to bring Sam back to life.”</p><p>“I’m already living on someone else’s dime,” Dean growled. “I’m very thankful that my dad didn’t do that.”</p><p>“Dean,” Sam groaned. “We’ve been <i>over</i> this...”</p><p>“Yeah,” Loki interrupted, “but there’s a reason you didn’t die in Nebraska, and there’s a reason Hell didn’t want you dead yet this time. There’s a certain sequence in which the seals on Luci’s Cage have to be broken. The first is that ‘a righteous man shall shed blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break.’”</p><p>Dean nodded. “Well, yeah, righteous man—that sounds like Dad—”</p><p>“No, Dean. You.”</p><p>Both brothers were stunned into wide-eyed silence.</p><p>“You’re the Righteous Man. You’re the Michael Sword. Everything depends on you breaking in Hell, especially because you are Sam’s biggest weakness.”</p><p>“But... I didn’t make a deal.”</p><p>“Not in this timeline. Not yet.”</p><p>“How—how do we stop this?”</p><p>Loki sighed. “Do you still have the Colt?”</p><p>They nodded.</p><p>“We need to change the barrel on it.”</p><p>“I’ll get it,” Dean said, leaving the apartment.</p><p>Sam frowned. “If he’s the Righteous Man—”</p><p>“You know about the demon blood, right?”</p><p>Sam nodded.</p><p>“Did future-me say anything about why you have demon blood?”</p><p>“The barest outline. Something about Azazel’s grand plan—” His eyes widened. “It has something to do with Lucifer, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“Yup. Hold on.”</p><p>Sam chewed on his lip.</p><p>Dean returned with the Colt and handed it to Loki, who examined the now-round barrel and sighed in relief. “Well, <i>that’s</i> not opening any doors now.”</p><p>“Future-you did it.”</p><p>“Good. That makes life simpler. We’ve got a better shot at keeping everybody alive this way.”</p><p>Dean smiled, then noticed Sam wasn’t. “Sammy?”</p><p>“What... what does the barrel on the Colt have to do with my having demon blood?” Sam asked. “And what do you mean by ‘opening any doors’?”</p><p>Loki jerked his head toward the living room and led the brothers to his couch, then snapped his fingers. A pie and some coffee appeared on the coffee table as he sat down in his recliner. “There is a Devil’s Gate in a cowboy cemetery in southern Wyoming, smack in the middle of a devil’s trap made of private rail lines. It was built by Samuel Colt, and no demon in his right mind would try to get into it to open the Gate. But the key Colt chose, wisely or unwisely, was that gun.”</p><p>Always quick to see patterns, Dean suddenly nodded. “And the barrel was the key to opening the door?”</p><p>“Exactly. Just a plain mechanical lock, but a demon can’t open it. Yet a human could.”</p><p>Sam sipped. “Dean, this coffee’s just like you like it.”</p><p>Dean took a sip, and his eyes widened. “It is. Wow. Thanks.”</p><p>Sam went back to the conversation. “Because no demon could get into the devil’s trap.”</p><p>“Right. So Azazel’s idea was to have one of his ‘special children’ go in and open the Gate as the first step toward springing Luci.”</p><p>“Special children,” Dean said. “Sammy was one of those?”</p><p>“Yup, as was Max Miller, and there are a bunch more. My guess is that Azazel decided to set up a fight to the death, winner take all.”</p><p>“And now without Azazel—there’s a bunch of psychics out there? Just rudderless?” Sam asked.</p><p>“Well, yes and no. Some of ’em have already started to turn dark, like Max did, but most just know they have unusual abilities. Those powers might continue, or they might not, at least not the same way. There’s more that’s latent in each of you—but before you get any bright ideas, Sam, they’re all dangerous.”</p><p>“So we shouldn’t try to learn how to deal with them or develop them or the others?”</p><p>“Deal with, sure, if by that you mean cope. Develop, no. Definitely don’t explore. Whatever power you might have had naturally, it’s been warped.”</p><p>“How?” Sam asked. “How do I deal with it and how do we help the others?”</p><p>“The others you may not be able to help. Just keep an eye out and deal with whatever comes along. For yourself... do what you know is right, ethical, moral. Treat it like any other temptation.”</p><p>Sam thought, then nodded. “Thanks, Loki.”</p><p>Loki nodded back.</p><p>Dean looked at the gun. “Now it’s not going to happen, is it? The gun can’t open the lock now.”</p><p>“No, that plan’s out the window, but I wouldn’t count on them not having a Plan B. You being hidden with those sigils will help, too—I didn’t know you were here until you knocked, so future-me did a thorough job there. Although....” Loki looked at them both again and snapped his fingers.</p><p>They frowned. “What did you do?” Dean asked.</p><p>“Unbutton your shirt.”</p><p>Dean began to, and Sam gasped. “Dean, you’ve got a <i>tattoo</i>!”</p><p>Dean looked down and frowned in surprise. Sure enough, there was a black tattoo over his heart—a pentangle in a sunburst. Sam put his hand over his own heart and began to undo his shirt. Dean’s nod confirmed that he had a new tattoo as well.</p><p>“That’s an anti-possession sigil,” Loki explained. “This way you won’t get hijacked if a demon does stumble across your path.”</p><p>“Thank you,” they chorused.</p><p>Loki shrugged. “Least I could do. Well, no, <i>least</i> I could do would be to stay out of it, but... looks like I can’t.” He looked down at the sword again.</p><p>“Maybe it’s changed enough now that you won’t die,” Sam said, hope lighting his eyes.</p><p>“Yeah, maybe. Not what I meant, though.”</p><p>“What did you mean?”</p><p>“Dad’s message. To future-me. ‘Go back and make it right.’”</p><p>“But you did, right?” Dean asked. “Future-you saved me so Dad didn’t... didn’t die for me and I didn’t make a deal for Sammy—”</p><p>“Haven’t. Yet. It’s derailed—but there’s always someone looking for a way to put it back on the rails.” Loki shook his head and added, more to himself than to the Winchesters, “I dunno if it ever will be over for good.”</p><p>Sam scooted over and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Loki.”</p><p>Loki huffed. “You muttonheads get caught in the middle of our family feud and <i>you’re</i> apologizing to <i>me</i>. Typical.” But the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a hint of a smile.</p><p>Sam squeezed his shoulder.</p><p>Loki took a deep breath and let it out again. “All right. I need you mooks to meet someone.” He closed his eyes for a moment.</p><p>The atmosphere in the room changed and some very bright light drifted from under a door.</p><p>“Oh, for—” Loki snapped his fingers again, and the light vanished. “Get in here,” he called.</p><p>A man with intense blue eyes and a terminal case of bedhead opened the door and walked in, looking down at a body clad in jeans and a sweatshirt. His visible confusion was overcome by awe, however, when he looked up and saw Loki. “Gabriel,” he breathed. “Brother, I thought—we—”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Greatly exaggerated. You recognize these two?”</p><p>“The Winchesters,” the man said. “The prophesied Righteous Man and the boy with demon blood.”</p><p>Loki rolled his eyes and turned to the Winchesters. “Guys, my baby brother Castiel. Got a job for you, kiddo,” he continued, looking back at Castiel. “Orders from Dad.”</p><p>Dark brows rose. “Father has not spoken but through Joshua for—”</p><p>“I know. But I’m still His messenger, for better or worse.”</p><p>Castiel was back to looking confused. “I... I don’t understand. Why have you summoned <i>me</i>? Why does this vessel feel so empty?”</p><p>“Because you’re the only one I trust, and because it’s <i>yours</i>.”</p><p>Suddenly the implications seemed to hit home, and the younger angel sat down heavily in a chair that appeared behind him just as his knees began to buckle.</p><p>“You think we’ve got time for you to dither around running tests on your vessel to make sure he’s serious about saying yes? John Winchester’s still alive, and Azazel’s dead. You know what that means.”</p><p>“That’s not—what... what are Father’s orders?”</p><p>“He wants these two kept alive and left alone. Their dad, too. I’m assigning you to watch over them, help them as much as you can. Keep them alive; keep them safe. The vessel’s yours for as long as you need it, when you need to appear to the boys.”</p><p>Castiel shook his head. “But Zachariah—”</p><p>Loki’s fists clenched. “Zach can go to <i>Gehenna</i> for all I care! He’s going against Dad’s will, end of story.”</p><p>Castiel frowned. “He believes he is not.”</p><p>“Well, who are you going to believe, him or your own eyes?” Loki picked up the bloodstained sword and held it out to Castiel, hilt first.</p><p>Castiel took it, and his jaw slammed open as his eyes widened. Loki crossed his arms and raised one eyebrow.</p><p>Handing the sword back, Castiel said softly, “What would you have me do, Messenger?”</p><p>Loki smiled fondly. “Let’s start with some pie, hm?”</p><p>Castiel nodded.</p><p>Sam cleared his throat. “Um, would you like some coffee, too, Castiel?”</p><p>He frowned again. “Oh. Yes.” He looked at Loki and whispered, “He’s... nice.”</p><p>Loki ruffled Castiel’s hair. “What’s in a man’s veins matters less than what’s in his soul, brother mine.”</p><p>Castiel scowled as he fixed his hair, but his eyes showed that he was thinking hard about what his brother had said.</p><p>Sam poured another cup of coffee while Dean cut a slice of pie and handed it to Sam to take over to Castiel. Castiel tried it, and his eyes widened.</p><p>“Good, huh?” Dean asked.</p><p>Castiel nodded.</p><p>The brothers grinned at each other, and Loki snapped himself a piece and settled back in his recliner with a satisfied smile.</p>
<hr/><p>
When the Impala pulled in at Singer Salvage again two days later, it had three occupants, not two.</p><p>Bobby came out, alone, eyebrow rising. “Who’s this?” he asked as the three individuals exited the car and walked toward the house.</p><p>“Bobby,” Dean replied, “this is Castiel. Cas, Bobby.”</p><p>“Castiel.”</p><p>“I am pleased to meet you, Bobby Singer,” Castiel answered, nodding once.</p><p>Bobby returned it and before the boys could combust, he said “Your daddy’s fine. He’s sleeping.”</p><p>Dean nodded. “Guess we’ll need to wake ’im up, then.”</p><p>“Let’s go, then.”</p><p>The brothers flanked Castiel as they followed Bobby into the house. All three crossed the salt line and passed through the devil’s trap with ease, and they all passed the holy water test, though Castiel looked a bit bemused until Dean told him to “just drink it.” Then they walked into the living room, where John was sacked out on the couch. Dean put a gentle hand on John’s good shoulder, waking him.</p><p>“Hey, Dad,” Dean said quietly with a smile.</p><p>“Dean.” He sat up slowly.</p><p>“How you feelin’?”</p><p>He sighed. “Sore.”</p><p>Dean nodded. “Listen, there’s somebody here you need to meet.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>Castiel stepped forward. “Hello, John. My name is Castiel. I’m an angel of the Lord.”</p><p>John pointed a gun at him.</p><p>“WHOA!” Sam yelped, jumping in front of Castiel, while Dean pushed John’s arm down with a sharp “DAD!”</p><p>“Pull the other one,” John growled. “Angels don’t exist.”</p><p>Castiel simply stepped around Sam and touched two fingers to John’s forehead. John gasped and stared.</p><p>“Dad?” Dean prompted.</p><p>John shook his head, bewildered. “I feel... no pain!”</p><p>“Of course,” Castiel replied. “I’ve healed you.”</p><p>“... why?”</p><p>Castiel tilted his head to one side, confused. “You doubted that I am an angel, and you were in pain.”</p><p>John’s eyes cut to Sam and the things the demons had told him about his baby boy rang through his mind.</p><p>“Dad,” Sam said, “he’s our guardian. He’s here to help us stop what Yellow-Eyes had planned.”</p><p>“... stop....” John’s gun dropped all the way.</p><p>Castiel nodded sagely. “Yes, John. The attacks on your family were not my Father’s will. But... my superior fears that they may continue, that someone will try to put the Apocalypse back on track. I have been assigned to prevent that if at all possible.”</p><p>“The Apocalypse?” He looked at Sam, then back at Castiel. “But all I knew was the Boy King....”</p><p>“That was part of the plan, certainly. Not the whole.”</p><p>Sam frowned at his father. “Boy King?”</p><p>John nodded reluctantly. “The demons, they... they called you the Boy King of Hell, said... you were destined to lead an army of demons to take over the world.”</p><p>“Bull!” Dean erupted.</p><p>“It will be difficult for that army to form now,” Castiel noted. “The Devil’s Gate cannot be opened.”</p><p>“Sammy... Sammy’s saved?” John whispered.</p><p>“For now. Much that was set in motion cannot now come to pass. But there may still be those who seek to manipulate <i>all</i> of you—especially you, John. That’s why I’m here.”</p><p>Bobby nodded. “He would be the easiest to manipulate. Man has two settings—fury and depression.”</p><p>John scowled at Bobby, but before he could say anything, Dean added, “And he’s believed demons about Sammy for—hell, <i>how</i> many years, Dad? What the hell were you thinking?!”</p><p>Sam’s eyes widened suddenly. “Since I was 12,” he breathed. “That’s when his attitude changed.”</p><p>Dean paced away from the couch, cursing a blue streak.</p><p>Bobby and Castiel watched. This was important.</p><p>John sighed. “Dean....”</p><p>“Demons <i>lie</i>, Dad!” Dean yelled, rounding on John.</p><p>“This one... was under a truth spell.”</p><p>“Like that keeps them from telling half-truths?”</p><p>“What’s a half about it?”</p><p>“What’s in a man’s veins matters less than what’s in his soul,” Dean thundered. “You know who said that? About <i>Sam</i>? That was <i>Gabriel</i>.”</p><p>“And Sam’s soul—” John began.</p><p>“Is not tainted,” Castiel stated flatly.</p><p>“It... isn’t?” John sounded very young.</p><p>“His power does carry the potential to corrupt. As yet, it has not. And it will not so long as his desire is to save and to do right... and as long as he has trustworthy guides to remind him when a thing seems right but is not.”</p><p>Dean put in, “And that’s us.”</p><p>Sam grimaced. “Dean....”</p><p>“There is a way that seems right to a man,” Castiel interrupted, turning to Sam. “But the ends thereof are the ways of death.”</p><p>Dean frowned at him. “What?”</p><p>Castiel turned to him in turn. “Sam was about to object that he knows right from wrong and doesn’t need your help. But it is easy for anyone to be deceived by the wrong guide... such as a demon pretending to want to help.”</p><p>Dean shuddered.</p><p>“You are correct, though, Dean. You, especially, as the Righteous Man, can provide Sam with the guidance he needs.”</p><p>“Righteous. Me.” Dean howled with laughter.</p><p>Castiel tilted his head again. “Why are you laughing?”</p><p>“I’m about as far from righteous as you can get!”</p><p>“You have your flaws, yes. But there is a deeper yearning in your soul, Dean, than physical pleasure. You wish to save lives, and you hunger and thirst after righteousness—you want to do right, even if ‘right’ doesn’t match what ‘religious’ people teach.”</p><p>Dean ducked his head. “C’mon, Cas. You don’t know me.”</p><p>Castiel didn’t change his expression. “I see enough. And it could not be otherwise, for how else could you be capable of breaking the first seal?” At Dean’s glare, the angel faltered. “Not that you’re going to... now... I mean....”</p><p>John looked from one to the other, confused. “Seal? What....”</p><p>But Sam looked thoughtful. “Reminds me of <i>The Screwtape Letters</i>. ‘The greatest saints and the greatest sinners are cut from the same cloth.’ Huh.”</p><p>“And in your case—it is literally true,” Castiel said. “At least—that was the way it was going to play out. Now, you can write your own story.”</p><p>Dean nodded slowly as he considered that point. Then he glanced over at John. “And I don’t have to do it with Dad’s deal hanging over my head.”</p><p>“The deal I would have made in a heartbeat,” John said.</p><p>“Dad, I was already on borrowed time. You still don’t think it would have killed me to watch you die?!”</p><p>“Borrowed time?” Castiel asked.</p><p>“He was electrocuted a few months back,” Sam explained. “Damaged his heart. We found this faith healer whose wife had a Reaper on a leash. He chose to heal Dean, and someone else died in his place.”</p><p>“Layla,” Cas said. “You are speaking of Layla?”</p><p>“Well, Layla did kind of get aced out of her miracle, but... no, there was this guy who just dropped dead ’cause the Reaper transferred Dean’s heart problem to him.”</p><p>“You freed this Reaper?”</p><p>“Yeah, we did.”</p><p>“Then you did very well.”</p><p>“Dean’s still beatin’ himself up over it, though.”</p><p>Castiel looked at him, frowning. “Why? It was not your fault.”</p><p>Dean frowned back. “How is it not my fault? He died because of me.”</p><p>“No. He died because of Sue Ellen Granger.”</p><p>Dean’s frown deepened. “Y-you’re saying... she woulda made the Reaper kill him anyway?”</p><p>“With whatever illness crossed that stage next, yes.”</p><p>Dean turned away and ran a hand over his nose and mouth, clearly fighting to keep his composure.</p><p>“She would have killed him with Layla’s tumor. Or with the older man’s asthma. Or with a stroke.”</p><p>Dean shook his head, like he couldn’t let go of the guilt so easily.</p><p>“So, Dean, you are not and never were living on ‘borrowed time.’”</p><p>“I still shoulda died from that shock.”</p><p>“No. That shock was never to kill you.”</p><p>Dean turned back to Castiel. “What are you talking about, Cas? Do you know how close I came?!”</p><p>“That shock should never have happened. It was engineered by my former superior to intensify the feelings of guilt and worthlessness—to aid you on your journey to Hell.”</p><p>“Engineered?!” all four humans exclaimed at once.</p><p>Castiel nodded. “What we have done to your family is inexcusable.”</p><p>Dean ran his hand over his nose and mouth again, visibly shaking, but Sam spoke up first. “But Gabriel... he’s fixed it, right? I mean, wasn’t that God’s command, ‘make it right’?”</p><p>Another nod.</p><p>“So Dean’s safe now, too.” That point was accompanied by a glance at John that might just have held a flash of <i>Not that you knew he was in danger in the first place</i>.</p><p>“Yes, Dean’s safe now, too.” Then Castiel turned to John. “However, your father still needs more protection.” And without waiting for permission, he stepped forward and pressed his hand flat on John’s chest. John jerked, gasping as light flashed. Then Castiel lifted his hand briefly before pressing two fingers over John’s heart.</p><p>John stared at him, eyes glazed. “What... what....”</p><p>“You are now warded as your sons are, John. Sigils on your ribs will hide you from angels and demons, and you also bear an anti-possession tattoo on your chest.” Castiel moved his hand to rest on John’s shoulder. “No demon will use you to harm your children again.”</p><p>John stared at him and jerked his shirt open. Sure enough, a starburst pentacle rested above his heart. “Why... c-can you return my Mary?”</p><p>Castiel looked sad. “No, John. She’s at rest now. And she’s avenged.”</p><p>John nodded. “Will I see her again?”</p><p>“If you believe. And if you don’t sell your soul.”</p><p>“I will. And I won’t.”</p><p>Castiel nodded once, then turned back to Dean. “I will try to stay close, though you won’t always see me. If you need me, pray—and... tell me where you are. You’re hidden from me as well.”</p><p>Dean nodded. Castiel nodded back—and vanished with the sound of wings beating. Sam sighed and sat down.</p><p>“Well,” said Bobby.</p><p>“Deep subject,” the boys chorused.</p><p>John cracked up in spite of himself. He had missed this. And somehow his laughter, which the boys had heard far too seldom in recent years, seemed to lighten the atmosphere in the room.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Mending Fences</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
John looked thoughtful at breakfast the next morning, but he wasn’t brooding.</p><p>Bobby walked over and sat across from him. “Something on your mind, Winchester?”</p><p>“Yeah, just... trying to decide what to do now. Got a call from Ellen Harvelle a few months back. Now I’m wonderin’ if it’s time to go try to mend fences.”</p><p>“Well... your revenge quest’s over. So I’d say it’s a good time for that.”</p><p>John nodded. “Jo must be a grown woman by now.”</p><p>“Two years younger than Sam.”</p><p>“Hard to believe it’s been so long.”</p><p>“Lot of years gone.” Bobby sighed. “World always needs hunters.”</p><p>“I sense a ‘but’ coming, Singer.”</p><p>“But it’s got enough crazy revenge-driven sons-of-bitches out there.”</p><p>John scowled. “You callin’ me crazy?”</p><p>“Not anymore.”</p><p>“So what, you sayin’ I should retire?”</p><p>“I’m sayin’ world needs hunters. Even ones that go part-time.”</p><p>“Part-time? What the hell would I do with the other part?”</p><p>Bobby smiled. “First of all, make amends. Second of all—you’re still the best damn mechanic I’ve ever known.”</p><p>John blinked. “You offering me a job, Bobby?”</p><p>“If you’ll have it.”</p><p>John ran a hand over his nose and mouth. “I’ll... I’ll think about it.”</p><p>“All I ask.” Bobby licked his lips. “But... I do need one more thing. Why were your boys so afraid of me?”</p><p>John frowned. “When?”</p><p>“Before this. Sam said he was hesitant to call me because you three wouldn’t be welcome. Those boys were <i>always</i> welcome here.”</p><p>John sighed. “Guess I told ’em about the fight we had and they figured you didn’t want to see them, either.”</p><p>Bobby groaned and shook his head.</p><p>“Made a lot of messes, didn’t I?”</p><p>“Not too late to pick ’em up.”</p><p>John sighed. “Hardly know where to start.”</p><p>“I got a good place.” Bobby picked up his coffee. “The Roadhouse.”</p><p>John nodded and raised his mug in salute.</p><p>“Tomorrow morning? Give the boys one more day to process what’s happened?”</p><p>“Yeah. Guess so.”</p><p>“’Course if you just want the boys to go....”</p><p>“No. No, this is... something I’ve got to do myself.” John paused. “You think I ought to bring ’em with me?”</p><p>Bobby nodded.</p><p>John nodded back. “All right, then.” He paused. “Should I warn Dean about Mama Bear?”</p><p>Bobby just laughed.</p>
<hr/><p>Dean frowned as he pulled the Impala in beside John’s truck—which they’d retrieved on their way—at a rough-hewn dive with a sign that read “Harvelle’s Roadhouse.” “Why the hell would Dad bring us <i>here</i>?”</p><p>“And why the hell does he look so reluctant to go inside?” Sam asked.</p><p>“Does he actually look <i>scared</i> to you?”</p><p>Sam shuddered. “What the hell is <i>in</i> there?”</p><p>“He didn’t say it was a hunt....”</p><p>“Let’s go find out.”</p><p>With that, both brothers exited the car at exactly the same time and slammed their doors shut in perfect unison.</p><p>John frowned at them. “Huh.”</p><p>“What?” they chorused.</p><p>“Did I raise two sons or one?” But he was smiling.</p><p>Dean looked at Sam with one eyebrow raised. Sam shrugged.</p><p>John sighed. “Time to do this.”</p><p>“Anything you need to tell us, Dad?” Dean asked.</p><p>“Lots of things. But right now I need to make this right.” He took a deep breath and walked in.</p><p>The boys exchanged another worried glance and followed.</p><p>“Hello?” John called.</p><p>The place seemed deserted, apart from a blond guy with a mullet who was passed out at the pool table. Apart from that, it didn’t look too much different from any of the other roadhouses they’d visited over the years.</p><p>“Ellen?” John called. “Jo?”</p><p>Sam shot a curious look at Dean, who shook his head. The names didn’t sound familiar at all.</p><p>“Ellen? It’s John!”</p><p>Dean sighed. “C’mon, Dad. There’s nobody here. Let’s go.”</p><p>John blinked, nodded toward the figure at the pool table. “Nobody here, huh?”</p><p>“I mean, nobody vertical. He looks like he’s down for the count.”</p><p>“Check the back,” John said, moving toward the table. “I’ll see about Mister Snoozer here.”</p><p>The boys nodded and started to comply—but stopped short when each of them felt a gun barrel pressed against his spine. “Uh, Dad?” said Sam.</p><p>Something in his voice made John freeze, then turn slowly. “Hello, Ellen.”</p><p>“John,” said a woman’s voice from behind Sam. “These two with you?”</p><p>“They’re my sons. You’ve got Sam covered and that’s Dean.”</p><p>“All right, Joanna Beth.” And the gun shifted away from Dean’s back.</p><p>John stepped forward. “Ellen.....”</p><p>The shotgun-wielding woman who appeared to be Ellen stepped out from behind Sam. “You finally get off your high horse and decide to accept some help?”</p><p>“I came to make things right.”</p><p>She frowned and tilted her head like she hadn’t heard right. “Excuse me?”</p><p>“I... I came to ask you... t-to forgive me.”</p><p>Ellen just stared, seemingly as shocked as Sam and Dean were to hear something like that come from John Winchester’s mouth.</p><p>“Can we talk? Alone?”</p><p>And the shotgun flew up, pointed straight at John’s center of mass. “<i>Christo!</i>”</p><p>John’s hands were spread. “Ellen, I swear it’s me.”</p><p>The person who’d been holding a gun on Dean—Jo?—stepped up beside Ellen, and John got a faceful of holy water.</p><p>John spit out the mouthful. “Nice to see you, Jo.”</p><p>“Uh, Dad?” Dean suggested. “Show ’em the tattoo.”</p><p>“Oh! Right!” He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it aside.</p><p>Ellen frowned. “That looks new. How long you had it?”</p><p>“Two, three days?”</p><p>Ellen lowered her gun a little. “There was some story about a bombing at a hospital a little over two weeks ago. One man shot with sulfur on his lips, one man stabbed with wings scorched on the floor around him. Two patients disappeared, an Elroy McGillicuddy and his son Dean. You know anything about that?”</p><p>“That was us,” Sam rumbled. “Victims were a demon and an angel.”</p><p>Jo frowned. “There’s no such thing as angels.”</p><p>“Then explain the wings,” Dean shot back.</p><p>Jo blinked and looked at Ellen.</p><p>“Wings?” Ellen frowned.</p><p>“They weren’t normally visible,” Sam noted.</p><p>“No, but I saw ’em,” Dean replied.</p><p>“And they were there when he died,” Sam nodded.</p><p>“Guess whatever exploded caused his wings to burn. Made some of the feathers visible, too, remember?”</p><p>“Oh!” Sam snapped his fingers. “The black down!”</p><p>Dean nodded. “Yeah.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Still visibly wary and confused, Ellen turned back to John, who just nodded. They looked at each other for a long moment before Ellen sighed and lowered her gun all the way. “You boys eaten yet?”</p><p>Dean opened his mouth, and his stomach answered for him. Loudly. Jo tried and failed to stifle a giggle.</p><p>“All right,” said Ellen. “Jo, you bring out a couple of plates for Sam and Dean. John, come on in the back.”</p><p>Jo and John followed Ellen into the back, and Jo returned a minute or so later with food. Then she went over to the pool table and yelled, “ASH!”</p><p>Mullet guy startled. “Zit closin’ time?”</p><p>“No, got a couple of guys I want you to meet—hunters, friends of Mom’s.”</p><p>“Mmm.” He rolled off the table.</p><p>Dean raised an eyebrow. “Why do we need to meet him?”</p><p>Jo grinned. “He’s in the business, too. And he’s a genius.”</p><p>“That’s not a genius,” Dean snorted. “That’s a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie!”</p><p>Ash laughed. “I like you.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>The four of them sat and talked about life, the universe, and everything for several hours before John and Ellen resurfaced with fresh food.</p><p>“Everything okay, Dad?” the boys both asked at the same time.</p><p>He sighed. “I think it might be getting there. She didn’t throw me out, at least.”</p><p>“That’s... good,” Dean ventured.</p><p>Jo frowned. “Why would she?”</p><p>John shot Ellen a wary look. “You want to explain or should I?”</p><p>“Oh, you go ahead,” Ellen replied, clearly aware she was putting John in a position he didn’t want to be in.</p><p>John swallowed hard. “Jo... how much do you know about what happened to your daddy?”</p><p>Jo shrugged. “He was killed on a hunt.”</p><p>“Do you know how?”</p><p>She shook her head.</p><p>“There... there was this hellspawn. Bill and I went down to kill it. Thought we’d protected ourselves well enough, but... I scuffed one of the wards. Rookie mistake. And the hellspawn....” He trailed off, fighting to keep his composure. “It took him, Jo. And he begged me... he....”</p><p>Jo lunged for her rifle.</p><p>“HEY!” Dean cried, doing his best to block her, while Sam grabbed the rifle and unloaded it.</p><p>She spun and lunged at John, screaming at him even as Ash caught her around the waist.</p><p>And John... was sobbing. “I’m so sorry, Jo Beth....”</p><p>“Don’t!” she snarled. “Don’t you dare! I HATE YOU!”</p><p>“Settle, girl!” Ash drawled, his arms tightening around her waist in an almost brotherly way, restraining and comforting at the same time. “It was an accident!”</p><p>“He killed him! He <i>killed</i> him!”</p><p>“Ash,” Ellen said quietly, “get her out of here. I’ll be out in a minute.”</p><p>Ash nodded and tugged his spitting wildcat of a burden out of the bar.</p><p>Ellen sighed. “Guess I shouldn’t offer you a room for the night, fellas, unless Jo decides to take off. Give me a minute to get her settled down so she won’t attack you on your way to your cars.”</p><p>They all nodded and then Dean was on his feet and walking toward his father. “Dad? You okay?”</p><p>John couldn’t answer. He was still fighting back tears.</p><p>Dean put his hand on John’s shoulder. “Dad?”</p><p>John broke down again and pulled Dean into a tight hug.</p><p>Sam double-took. This was... strange behavior.</p><p>Dean froze for a moment, then returned the hug and started rubbing John’s back. “Dad, it’s okay. It was an accident, coulda happened to anyone.”</p><p>“It was a mercy killing, then,” Sam whispered.</p><p>Ellen nodded. “John said Bill begged him to shoot.”</p><p>“So he would die on his own terms,” Sam finished.</p><p>Ellen nodded. “Yeah. I’ve hated your daddy for years because of that. But now... now I think I was just looking for someone to blame.”</p><p>All eyes were on her.</p><p>It took a moment, but she finally met John’s eyes. “Yeah, John. I guess I forgive you.”</p><p>Sam smiled, and Dean rubbed John’s back.</p><p>John nodded. “Thanks,” he whispered hoarsely.</p><p>Ellen nodded and sighed. “I’d better go see to Jo.” And she left.</p><p>“Want me to go with her?” Sam asked.</p><p>John shook his head. “Don’t want Jo taking it out on you.”</p><p>Sam frowned, but remained seated.</p><p>John finally released Dean. “You know, son, when you were little... I’d come home, all beat up after a hunt, and this is just what you’d do. You’d hug me and... and say, ‘It’s okay, Daddy.’“ Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks.</p><p>Dean nodded. “I remember. Dad—it’s okay.”</p><p>John shook his head. “No. No, it’s not okay. I should have been the one saying that to you. I’ve put too damn much on your shoulders, Dean. And I am so, so sorry.”</p><p>Dean looked at Sam, confusion clear on his face.</p><p>“Dad?” Sam prompted. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“S-seeing how Jo... it’s my fault Bill died. I took her daddy away from her. And... I-I just... it hit me, then, that that’s what I’d planned to do to you.”</p><p>Both boys blanched.</p><p>“Boys, I... I can’t....” John shook his head. “I haven’t been thinkin’ straight. For a long time now. C-c-can... can you forgive me?”</p><p>“Dad, there’s nothin’ to forgive,” Dean said.</p><p>John shook his head miserably and looked at Sam. Sam nodded slowly. John sniffled and nodded back.</p><p>Dean clasped his father’s neck. “We okay now?”</p><p>John nodded and pulled out a handkerchief to dry his face.</p><p>Sam watched the door.</p><p>“Uh,” said John when he’d dried his eyes. “Bobby... offered me a job. Haven’t decided yet whether I’ll take it.”</p><p>Dean nodded. “I think you’ll be good at it if you choose to take it.”</p><p>John nodded. “What about you boys? Sam, you... you want to go back to school now?”</p><p>Sam chuckled. “Nah, I think that ship’s sailed.”</p><p>“You sure? If... if it’s really over, then....”</p><p>“Dad—can I talk to you?”</p><p>“Sure, Sam. Dean, would you... I think there’s pie in the kitchen.”</p><p>Dean hissed, “I don’t want you two to fight.”</p><p>“We’ll be all right, son. Go on.”</p><p>Dean headed on. Sam watched him go.</p><p>John sat down across from Sam. “Okay. Shoot.”</p><p>“If I do go back to school, I’m not doing it alone. This.... This last year taught me a lot. I don’t want to be apart from my family anymore.”</p><p>John nodded slowly. “You talk to Dean about this yet?”</p><p>“I’m going to.”</p><p>“All right. I’ll let the two of you decide. World needs hunters, but... that’s no reason for me to keep you boys under lock and key.” John shook his head. “We came too damn close to losing each other doing it my way. Maybe it’s time I stop treating you like Marines and start treating you like sons.”</p><p>Sam grinned. “That’s all I ask.”</p><p>John smiled and reached across the table to give Sam’s hand a quick squeeze. “Go tell Dean we haven’t killed each other.”</p><p>Sam’s grin grew and he headed into the kitchen. Dean was pacing when Sam walked in.</p><p>“We’re done.”</p><p>“You’re done? Already?”</p><p>Sam nodded.</p><p>“What’d you talk about?”</p><p>“College.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“If I go, I’m not going alone.”</p><p>Dean froze.</p><p>“I’m not leaving you again.”</p><p>Dean swallowed hard. “How... how’m I supposed to go to college when I’m legally dead?”</p><p>“Then we don’t go.”</p><p>“Sam, I... I don’t... don’t put this on me, dude. I don’t want to stand in your way.”</p><p>“I’m not leaving you again, Dean. Not now that I know what it does to you.”</p><p>Dean turned away and ran a shaking hand over his nose and mouth.</p><p>“I can’t go, either. Not.... Not back to Stanford.”</p><p>Dean turned back to him. “There’s other schools.”</p><p>“There are, yes.”</p><p>Ash cleared his throat at that point and walked into the kitchen. “<i>Escúchame, compadres</i>, I couldn’t help overhearin’—you thought about one o’ these new online schools?”</p><p>They stared at him as if he’d grown another head.</p><p>“I can fix you boys up with some new IDs, and you can do all your studyin’ on the road.”</p><p>Sam looked at Dean, his entire face alight.</p><p>Dean looked skeptical. “What kind of degree programs are we talkin’ about?”</p><p>Ash shrugged. “Depends on the school, but I think most of ’em offer at least a Bachelor’s in the sciences. From what you were sayin’ over supper, I reckon you’d be good with an engineerin’ degree.” He snorted. “Hell, you’d do better’n half my classmates at MIT.”</p><p>“You went to MIT?” both gasped.</p><p>“Couple years, ’til I got kicked out for fightin’.” Ash grinned.</p><p>Dean grinned back.</p><p>Sam laughed. “Man, when they say ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’....”</p><p>“I wrote that book,” Ash laughed.</p><p>“So what do you think, Dean?”</p><p>Dean shook his head. “I dunno, dude. I... I can’t think about it right now.”</p><p>Sam nodded. “We’ll talk it later.”</p><p>Dean nodded back. Then he took a deep breath and turned back to Ash. “So, how’s Jo? She’s not gonna kill Dad, is she?”</p><p>Ash whistled. “Dude, I haven’t a clue.”</p><p>“We need to sneak out the back way or something?”</p><p>“Lemme show you where it is?”</p><p>Dean nodded, and he and Sam followed Ash out of the kitchen. Ash led them outside behind the Roadhouse. Ellen and Jo were still talking loudly in the parking lot—not exactly yelling at each other, but loud enough that the boys could hear them as they edged around to a point where they could see Ellen. Sam froze, listening, as Jo’s words became distinct.</p><p>“Mom, I can’t believe you! Dad died because John shot him! That doesn’t prove anything about whether or not I’d be safe!”</p><p>“I lost your father to this lifestyle! I’m <i>not</i> losing you, too!”</p><p>“Sam and Dean do it!”</p><p>“Joanna Beth, this discussion is <i>over</i>!”</p><p>“But, <i>Mom</i>....”</p><p>“So long as you live under my roof, those are my rules!”</p><p>“<i>Fine!</i> Then I guess I won’t live under your roof anymore!”</p><p>“Joanna Beth, don’t you <i>dare</i> give me that sass!”</p><p>“It’s <i>my</i> life! It’s <i>my</i> choice! I <i>hate</i> college! I’m <i>not</i> going back!”</p><p>“I spent <i>too much</i> on you without having you throw it all <i>away</i>!”</p><p>Sam glanced over at Dean, whose eyebrows were headed for his hairline.</p><p>“And I wanted <i>more</i> from you,” Ellen continued, “than to live a nomadic lifestyle always on the fine edge of <i>broke</i>!”</p><p>“I DON’T CARE!” Jo roared. “I <i>save</i> people, Mom! I would have thought that mattered to you!”</p><p>“Of <i>course</i> it matters to me!”</p><p>“Then <i>let me hunt!</i>”</p><p>“I can’t.”</p><p>“Then I can’t stay. BYE, Mom.”</p><p>“JOANNA BETH!” Ellen yelled, watching her walk away. “IF YOU GO OUT THAT DOOR....” She jammed a fist in her mouth, cutting the rest of the horrible words off.</p><p>A car door slammed. An engine started and revved. Tires spun. A mother cried.</p><p>And a moment after the sound of Jo’s car leaving faded into the night, the boys heard their father’s voice: “I’m so sorry, Ellen.”</p><p>“What do you know?” she spat as he walked up beside her.</p><p>“Had the same conversation with Sam. Other way around. He wanted to go to college—got a full scholarship to Stanford. I didn’t want him to leave.” John’s face was unreadable, but his voice was full of regret.</p><p>She froze, looking at him.</p><p>“I... got so mad, I gave him an ultimatum. He left. Didn’t try to call for four years. And I regretted it every damn day.”</p><p>“I almost—”</p><p>“But you didn’t.”</p><p>“Do you think there’s hope for a foolish old woman?”</p><p>John chuckled wryly. “You think there’s hope for a foolish old man?”</p><p>“He came back, didn’t he?”</p><p>“Yeah—but I never wanted him back that way. The demon, he killed Sam’s girl. If it hadn’t been for Dean... well. Doesn’t bear thinking about.”</p><p>“No, doesn’t.” She sighed. “Let’s go. No sense staying out here.”</p><p>“Buy you a drink?”</p><p>“On the house.”</p><p>He put an arm around her shoulders, and they walked back inside. She found herself leaning into his embrace.</p><p>And from their hiding place, the boys and Ash found themselves staring at each other in shock.</p><p>“... okay, that’s a wrinkle I didn’t expect,” Sam breathed.</p><p>“Seriously,” Dean agreed.</p><p>“C’mon, <i>amigos</i>,” said Ash. “Let’s get inside ’fore they miss us.”</p><p>Moving like they both had concussions, the brothers followed Ash inside.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Plan B</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
Sam and Dean were quiet at breakfast the next morning, still in shock from what they’d witnessed the night before. Just as they finished, Ellen and John came down together, looking like they’d been up talking.</p><p>“Morning,” the boys chorused.</p><p>“Morning,” John chuckled. “Yes, they do that,” he said to Ellen.</p><p>Ellen chuckled in turn and sat down with a tired groan. Ash brought her a cup of coffee, which she accepted with a grateful smile.</p><p>“So, Dad, we’ve been thinking,” Sam began.</p><p>John got a cup of coffee of his own. “Yeah?”</p><p>“We’re takin’ off.”</p><p>“Figured we’d head back to Bobby’s,” Dean added, “since we’re done here and... sounds like you and Ellen have a lot to talk about.”</p><p>Sam nodded.</p><p>John nodded thoughtfully. “All right. If you’re sure.”</p><p>“We’re sure,” they chorused.</p><p>“Okay, then. Call when you get there.”</p><p>They left the Roadhouse and got into the Impala, just sitting there for a moment. “... okay, I didn’t expect that,” Sam said. “Dad... and Ellen?”</p><p>Dean just shook his head.</p><p>“Weird.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Dean looked at Sam for a moment. “Hell. At least he’s alive.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Sam grinned. “Yeah—alive—and we know where he is!”</p><p>Dean smiled back as he started the engine, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Dean sighed. “It’s stupid—I mean, they’ve known each other for how long? So... it’s stupid of me. It’s just.... She’s not Mom.”</p><p>“He’s a man, though. He needs someone. And... And I’d rather it be her than a stranger.”</p><p>“Yeah. No, I know, I don’t... she gets it, I think. Gets him. And she’s tough. Don’t want to mess with her. It’s stupid of me.”</p><p>“But you feel she’s taking Mom’s place?”</p><p>“I dunno, dude. I mean, I want Dad to be happy, but....” He paused, suddenly looking all of four years old again. “I guess I just want Mom back.”</p><p>Sam’s hand curled over Dean’s wrist. “I know. I do, too.”</p><p>Dean smiled shakily and squeezed Sam’s hand. Then he took a deep breath and pulled out of the parking space.</p><p>Bobby’s house was only six hours away. With good music, good road food, and minimal conversation, Dean’s mood had improved by the time they arrived.</p><p>Bobby walked onto his porch and frowned. “You’re one Winchester short.”</p><p>“Yeah, Dad stayed behind. Jo kind of blew up at Ellen, left in a huff, so... since Dad kind of has experience in that department thanks to the College Boy here....” Dean gave Sam a playful punch on the shoulder.</p><p>Sam laughed softly. “Plus, there might be something there.”</p><p>Dean’s smile slipped a little, but he hid it swiftly. “Yeah, so. We’re... doing our own thing for now, I guess.”</p><p>“Well, I ain’t runnin’ no motel, but you’re family. Welcome to stay here as long as it takes.”</p><p>Dean’s smile brightened. “Thanks, Bobby.”</p><p>The boys followed him into the house—only to find Loki in the kitchen.</p><p>“Hey!” Dean called, smiling even more brightly.</p><p>Loki nodded. “Surprise.”</p><p>“What’s up?”</p><p>“Just checkin’ up on you mooks.”</p><p>Dean shrugged. “We’re here.”</p><p>“Dad’s off mending fences,” Sam added.</p><p>“With who?”</p><p>“Ellen Harvelle.”</p><p>Loki’s eyes widened, and he began to smile.</p><p>“What?” the brothers chorused.</p><p>“I didn’t plan those two together.”</p><p>Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, neither did we.”</p><p>“It’s good. They’ll help each other heal.”</p><p>Both boys nodded, but Sam gave Loki a searching once-over. “Why are you really here?”</p><p>Loki raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“You could have checked on us another way. But you came <i>here</i>, which means you wanted to talk. What’s going on?”</p><p>“Smart boy. Sit down.”</p><p>They sat, Dean spinning a chair around to sit in backward.</p><p>“What do you know of a hunter named Gordon Walker?”</p><p>Sam looked at Dean, who shook his head. “Never heard of him.”</p><p>“You need to become familiar with him.”</p><p>“Why? What’s he doing?”</p><p>“Hunting.” He looked at Sam. “You.”</p><p>“WHAT?!” the boys and Bobby exploded.</p><p>Loki waggled a finger in his ear.</p><p>“Why the hell would he hunt Sam?” Dean demanded.</p><p>Loki just looked at Sam.</p><p>Sam paled. “Th-the demon blood thing?! But—we just found out about that ourselves, from—from future-you. Nobody outside the family even knows about it!”</p><p>“Everyone. In <i>my</i> family. Knows. I’m gonna make this easy.” He snapped his fingers and suddenly John and Ellen were in the kitchen.</p><p>In each other’s arms.</p><p>Kissing.</p><p>Dean turned purple and looked away. Bobby whistled, and Sam applauded. Gasping, they broke apart, Ellen scrubbing at her mouth.</p><p>“Loki...” Dean said in a strangled voice.</p><p>“Loki, huh?” Ellen said. “Trickster god?”</p><p>“Among other things,” Sam replied.</p><p>“Singer,” John growled, looking a little ridiculous with pale pink lipstick staining his lower lip.</p><p>“Don’t look at me,” Bobby shrugged. “I only live here.”</p><p>Ellen looked around. “I can tell.”</p><p>“Can we just do this?!” Dean exploded.</p><p>“What are we doing here?” John erupted at nearly the same instant.</p><p>Ellen caught his eye and motioned at her own bottom lip meaningfully. He hastily scrubbed at his lip while Bobby brought in two more chairs from the living room.</p><p>“Here, sit,” said Bobby. “Walker’s got a burr under his saddle about Sam, it seems. Loki was just about to fill in some details.”</p><p>“WALKER?” both newcomers erupted.</p><p>“Shit,” Ellen finished.</p><p>“Okay,” Dean growled. “<i>Who</i> is Walker?”</p><p>“Vampire specialist,” John replied in nearly the same tone. “Damn good hunter—”</p><p>“In the same way Hannibal Lecter’s a good psychiatrist,” Ellen continued. “He’s a damn loose cannon. Unstable and violent.”</p><p>John nodded. “That’s why I never let you boys near him. I knew his type in ’Nam; never knew if they were gonna follow orders or shoot you in the back.”</p><p>“Well, they need to know about him now,” Loki said.</p><p>“So you say. Why’s he after Sam?”</p><p>“Because of what Azazel did to him as a baby.”</p><p>“How the hell does Walker even know about that?”</p><p>Loki shook his head. “That’s what I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.”</p><p>“Wait, what who did to Sam?” Ellen gasped. “What did he do?”</p><p>“Azazel,” Sam replied before either Dean or John could ask the other or him whether to let her in on the secret. “He... did something, the night Mom died, and... according to Gabriel, now I have demon blood in my system.”</p><p>“And yet you’re sitting comfortably half-in and half-out of a devil’s trap,” she mused, looking up at the ceiling.</p><p>“He’s still human, if that’s what you mean,” Loki stated. “The blood gives him powers, but it doesn’t make him a demon. Not that Walker would recognize any difference; he probably sees it as working like vampire blood.”</p><p>John nodded. “To him, Sam would be a creature. Tainted.”</p><p>“And in Walker’s book, the only good creature is a dead creature,” Ellen finished. “Dammit.”</p><p>The discussion was interrupted by Castiel suddenly appearing beside Loki. “I’ve found Gordon Walker’s informant. Hello, Dean, Sam,” he added almost as an afterthought.</p><p>“Cas,” Dean said with a nod.</p><p>Ellen drew on the newcomer. John had started to, but stopped as soon as he recognized Castiel.</p><p>“Hey, whoa,” Sam said, seeing Ellen’s gun. “It’s okay. He’s an angel.”</p><p>“An angel?” Ellen asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” John replied. “Wings and all. We heard ’em last time.”</p><p>Ellen put the gun away.</p><p>“What’d you find, Cas?” Dean asked.</p><p>“Uriel,” Castiel replied.</p><p>“Is that a person or a disease?”</p><p>“He is an angel—but it seems he is not one we can trust.”</p><p>“Figures,” Loki snarled. “He hates humans. Gets his kicks wiping cities off the map. He and Walker would be two peas in a pod.”</p><p>“And it looks as though he is....” Castiel paused. “... getting Walker to do his clean-up work?”</p><p>“Dirty work,” several voices corrected at the same time.</p><p>“His dirty work,” Castiel finished.</p><p>“And that figures, too,” Loki nodded. “Doesn’t matter so much whether it’s his own idea or Zachariah’s, but if they don’t want it to get to Michael—or worse, Yahweh—that they’re going along with Lucifer’s plan to start the Apocalypse, it makes sense that Uriel would turn up in a friendly guise and drop the case in Walker’s lap. ‘I’m not telling you what to do, but I trust you’ll do the right thing,’ all that jazz. Would go down better coming from Uriel, too—Zach’s... too much of the middle-management old white guy.” He snorted. “Too German-looking.”</p><p>“I thought you could look like anyone,” John said.</p><p>“Only if we make our own forms,” Castiel replied carefully. “Most angels view this as unnecessary; few of us are permitted to speak to humans face to face now, and those who are have human vessels whose permission they may seek to... inhabit them for a time.”</p><p>“So you’re possessing someone,” Ellen said slowly.</p><p>“I am not, no. My superior felt it more expedient for me to have my own body.”</p><p>“Uriel and Zachariah would go the vessel route, though,” Loki explained. “Don’t ask me why; it doesn’t make a lick of sense, since they both hate dealing with humans. But somehow they’ve got the idea that Yahweh <i>requires</i> them to possess humans rather than form their own bodies. And since they’re acting in Yahweh’s name, even though they’re following Lucifer’s plan, they seem to think they have to obey at least some of Yahweh’s rules.”</p><p>Ellen sat down. “Okay, someone fill in the newbie here.”</p><p>John and Sam sat down with her and explained it between them. Dean made drinks for everyone while they waited.</p><p>As soon as she was up to speed, Ellen nodded. “All right. So what do we do about it?”</p><p>Sam looked up. “Loki, is that why you’re here?”</p><p>“Yup,” Loki replied, leaning back in his chair. “If we can stop Walker, it’ll send the God Squad a message they’ll really have to chew over.”</p><p>“So tell me—us how we stop him,” John said. The fact that he changed mid-sentence showed he was trying. Honestly trying.</p><p>Loki snapped his fingers and sat forward as a map appeared on the table. “Sometime in the next couple of days, Walker’s going to get wind of cattle mutilations being reported here.” He pointed to a town circled in red on a map. “Most hunters would think demon. But the truth, as Walker will discover, is that there’s a nest of vamps there who are trying to fight their blood-thirst by living on animal blood. Walker won’t buy that line, but it’s the truth. If you can head him off there, you can save a lot of lives.”</p><p>“How much time do we have to get there and contact the vamps?” Sam asked.</p><p>“Two days at the outside, I’d say.”</p><p>“We should be careful,” Castiel added. “Walker will investigate these mutilations because he believes Sam will be drawn there as well.”</p><p>“Why will I be drawn there?” Sam said, then his voice shifted to mockery. “To gather the unholy minions I’ll need as the Arisen Antichrist?”</p><p>At that, Castiel cracked a rare smile.</p><p>“Something like that, probably,” Loki replied, amused. “No, seriously, Uriel’s probably told Walker that you’ll be investigating omens to try to make contact with whichever demon is taking over for Azazel.”</p><p>“Which, in Walker’s mind, would be Sam taking over,” John said with that cold, clinical precision which his boys knew sheathed red-hot rage.</p><p>His fist on the table was trembling.</p><p>Ellen put a hand on his arm. “John. We’ll do this together.”</p><p>He took a deep breath. Met her eyes—and nodded. “Together.”</p><p>“So what’s the plan?” Sam asked.</p><p>“Contact the vamps,” Loki said. “I’ll go ahead and smooth the way. You’re looking for one named Lenore.”</p><p>“Like in the Poe poem?” Dean asked. At Sam’s startled look, he added, “What? I read.”</p><p>“Anything and everything you can get your hands on,” John nodded. “Always did.”</p><p>Dean ducked his head, embarrassed at having his anti-intellectual cover blown.</p><p>John frowned at Sam’s expression. “What? You never wondered where those books you inhaled came from? Who dog-eared them and highlighted the best parts?”</p><p>Sam grimaced. “Guess I thought it was you.”</p><p>Dean rolled his eyes. “Can we get back to the matter at hand, please?”</p><p>Loki chuckled. “Okay, Sam, Dean, and Castiel, your job is to help the vamps relocate. Find them someplace where they won’t have to prey on other people’s animals to get by. John, Ellen, Bobby, and I will head off Walker.”</p><p>“What do you mean, where they won’t have to prey?”</p><p>“Someplace with a nice, understanding kosher butcher, maybe? I dunno; use your imaginations.”</p><p>Sam was studying the map. “They’re here, right?”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>“Dean, look here.” He slid his fingers down to the banks of a river. “This is where there are several migratory herds. Bison, horses, and some wild cattle. That should keep them flush.”</p><p>Dean nodded slowly. “If that’s really stuff they can feed on, yeah.”</p><p>“It’s all wild. It’s secluded. Depending on how many there are, they should be fine.”</p><p>Dean nodded again. “Not too many tourists, either, right?”</p><p>“Cave system and cliffs. They can hide if they need to.”</p><p>“Yeah. That... that sounds good.”</p><p>“So when do we leave?” Sam smiled.</p><p>“No time like the present,” Loki replied. “I’ll see you mooks there.” And he vanished, leaving the map—suddenly folded—in Sam’s hands.</p><p>“I, too, will meet you there,” Castiel stated before vanishing in a flurry of wings.</p><p>Sam nodded. “Dad, Ellen, Bobby, you be safe, okay?”</p><p>John nodded back. “You, too, boys.”</p><p>They smiled at each other and made their farewells. Sam and Dean went west and John, Ellen and Bobby went east. Once again, however, Dean didn’t say much on the drive.</p><p>Sam let him for about halfway there. When they stopped for gas, however, he said, “Okay, talk to me.”</p><p>Dean rolled his eyes. “Sam.”</p><p>“Dean.”</p><p>“Why do you always do this, dude? Why’s it so urgent that you’ve gotta talk all the time?”</p><p>“I just like to share information and—connect.”</p><p>Dean rolled his eyes again.</p><p>“Seriously, man, you can’t go through life alone!”</p><p>Dean frowned. “Alone? What the hell are you talking about?”</p><p>“Not talking. Not connecting.”</p><p>“All right, you wanna know what’s bothering me? This trip. They’re friggin’ <i>vampires</i>—why are we <i>helping</i> them?”</p><p>Sam smiled. “Because the Archangel Gabriel told us to.”</p><p>Dean huffed. “Yeah, Gabriel says. I dunno, Sam, I just... I want some proof, that’s all.”</p><p>“Proof that they’re genuine and not the bloodthirsty killers we know.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Sam folded his hands and called, “Loki? We need to talk to you.”</p><p>After a pause, Dean added, “We’re... at the Gas-n-Sip in Gillette, Wyoming.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Loki replied, appearing beside Sam. “I’m not <i>that</i> good at triangulating prayers.”</p><p>Sam nodded. “We... We’d like some proof that these vampires really aren’t hell-bent on hurting people.”</p><p>Loki nodded. “Okay. You muttonheads trust me?”</p><p>Sam nodded and looked over at Dean.</p><p>Dean sighed. “Yeah.”</p><p>Loki nodded again and snapped his fingers—and Sam disappeared.</p><p>“SAM!” Dean roared.</p><p>“It’s okay, Dean,” Loki stated. “He’s outside the vamps’ farmhouse. You’ll get him back unharmed when you get there. That will be your proof.”</p><p>“You.... Ge-Get me there NOW!”</p><p>“No dice, Deano. You want your proof, you drive.” And Loki disappeared.</p><p>Dean drove at top speed, furious. When he pulled up to the farmhouse two and a half hours later, Sam was standing on the porch, talking with a brunette. Dean’s first thought was <i>Attaboy, Sammy!</i> until he remembered this was probably a vampire. But she was making no threatening moves and Sam looked... unharmed and calm.</p><p>So when he got out of the car, Dean did not automatically draw his gun. He walked up to the porch. “Sammy.”</p><p>“Hey,” Sam replied, smiling enough that Dean could see the absence of any fangs—he hadn’t been turned. “This is Lenore. Lenore, my brother Dean.”</p><p>Dean nodded and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips as he did the unthinkable.</p><p>He reached out his right hand to shake that of a vampire. “Lenore.”</p><p>“Dean.” She seemed a little nervous, but she took his hand and shook it. “Sam tells me Loki sent you guys to get us to safety.”</p><p>“If you are what he says you are, yes. There’s a vampire hunter on his way—a Gordon Walker.”</p><p>She nodded slowly. “So Sam said. And he says you’ve found us a place—lots of game, no neighbors to speak of. Someplace off the grid.”</p><p>“The map’s still on the front seat,” Dean informed Sam.</p><p>Sam nodded and dashed down to the Impala to get it.</p><p>Dean smiled a little at Lenore. “I’m sorry, it’s hard to believe you’re a vampire.”</p><p>She smiled back. “It’s hard to believe Sam’s a hunter. He seems so gentle.”</p><p>“He is, and he is a hunter.” He nodded. “I gotta be honest—everything in me is tellin’ me to stake you right now. But I’m not gonna.” He tilted his head toward the taller man walking back toward them. “’Cause he’s okay. And that’s all the proof I need.”</p><p>Lenore’s smile grew, letting her fangs show a bit. “And that’s the proof Loki promised us. If we showed that you could trust us, we’d be able to trust you.”</p><p>“How many are in your nest?” The brothers blinked at each other and chuckled softly. That had come out in perfect unison.</p><p>Lenore laughed. “Twenty. We’ve been off the grid for a long time, living on cow blood. It’s disgusting, but it keeps us alive.”</p><p>Sam nodded. “Twenty of you—and one cow feeds what, five, ten?”</p><p>“Ten, if we ration carefully. We’re not eating <i>well</i>, but we’re not starving.”</p><p>Another nod. “And you only feed once, twice a month?”</p><p>“Once. In fact, we’re about to need to feed again in the next few days. I... suppose that’s how Walker would have found us. We’ve already butchered the whole herd that came with this farm, and we haven’t had the funds to buy any more cattle.”</p><p>Sam spread out the map. “What do you think about here?” He tapped the area. “It’s got myriads of hiding places and migrating herds. Bison, horses, wild cattle, all come through here. And there’s deer and wolves, and you’re just on the southern edge of the forest, so there might even be a lost moose or two.”</p><p>Lenore gasped, and her fangs came down for a moment. She retracted them with an effort and nodded. “Yes. Yes, that sounds <i>perfect</i>.”</p><p>“Sam.” Dean pulled him aside for a second, and they whispered. Then Dean said, “In return, we’d like you to do a favor for us.”</p><p>“Anything. We’ll owe you our lives.”</p><p>Sam laid it out. “We don’t want you to go hungry all the way there, and we need bait to lure Walker here so we can take care of him. If we buy you enough cows to sate your nest for the trip, would you be willing to mutilate them so we can use them for bait?”</p><p>Lenore’s mouth fell open. “You... you would do that? You’d <i>buy</i>.... Yes, yes, of course we could do that. Five should be plenty; we’d spread it out over a couple of days to make it look right.”</p><p>Dean nodded. “Give us 24 hours.”</p><p>“Fair enough. Dean, Sam... thank you.”</p><p>“Thank us if this works,” Dean said. They returned to the Impala and he sighed. “Now we gotta find a bar to hustle—”</p><p>“No, we don’t.” Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a pouch. “I found this in my pocket after Loki zapped me here. I think he had something like that in mind.”</p><p>Dean frowned. “What’s in it?”</p><p>“Two wads of bills and several coins.”</p><p>“Count it up.”</p><p>As they drove to town, Sam counted.</p><p>And counted.</p><p>And <i>counted</i>.</p><p>He looked up, eyes huge. “Enough for five cows and supplies for both the nest <i>and</i> us.”</p><p>Dean let out a low whistle. “All right, then. Let’s hit the auction barn.”</p><p>Two hours later, five cows richer, the brothers rented a cattle trailer and drove back out to the farm. When they stepped out, a pair of mountain men stepped onto the porch.</p><p>“We’re here to see Lenore,” Sam called.</p><p>The men frowned. “And you are?” one of them called back.</p><p>“Dean Winchester,” Dean called. “This is m’brother Sam.”</p><p>Lenore came out on the porch then. “It’s okay, fellas. I’ve been expecting them.”</p><p>“They’re <i>hunters</i>, ’Nore....” one hissed.</p><p>“Hunters who brought us a feast. Don’t tell me you can’t tell what’s in that trailer.”</p><p>“... it could be a trick....” the other said, but there wasn’t much conviction behind it.</p><p>Lenore shook her head. “Come on around back, boys. We’ll meet you at the barn.”</p><p>The brothers nodded and got back into the Impala. Dean steered it around back. As they pulled up to the barn, Lenore opened the gate to a holding pen, and Dean cautiously backed up to it. No sooner had he stopped than one of the cows mooed loudly.</p><p>They looked at each other and smiled, then got out of the Impala and Sam opened the trailer door. Lenore came over to help Dean set up the ramp and unload the cattle. One by one, the cattle wandered into the pen, lowing all the way. Sam then climbed into the trailer and unloaded a half-bale of hay and water for the other trough.</p><p>“What all do you guys need in the way of supplies to be ready to move?” Dean asked Lenore.</p><p>Both mountain men gasped and looked wide-eyed at the brothers.</p><p>Lenore was trembling. “I... I’m sorry, Dean, I’m so hungry, I can’t even think. You’ll be staying in town?”</p><p>“Yes, at the Starlight Motel for the next few nights,” Sam said. “You’ll do what we asked, then?”</p><p>She nodded. “Yes. Yes, it’s a deal. We’ll contact you in a few hours to let you know what we need.”</p><p>“And—just—” Dean stuttered. “Let us get on the road before you feed? Still a little squicked by that.” As he spoke, they got into the car.</p><p>“Of course, of course—just—hurry?”</p><p>They drove away, waving goodbye from each window. Their last view was the rest of the nest coming from the house to the pen.</p><p>They made the turn before the nest fed. “Whew,” Dean sighed, shaking his head.</p><p>Sam blew the air out of his cheeks. “Yeah.”</p><p>They returned the trailer to the auction barn and drove to the nearest diner, getting food to go. They returned to the motel and began to eat their dinner, musing over how bizarre a right turn their lives had taken.</p><p>Dean then dialed his dad’s phone, checking in.</p><p>“Hey, son,” John answered. “Everything okay?”</p><p>“I don’t believe it! You actually answered your damn phone!” Dean laughed.</p><p>“Ellen made me,” John replied, also laughing.</p><p>“She’s good for you,” Dean admitted. “We made contact. Loki was dead right. They’re animal blood only.”</p><p>“Is that so? Huh. They willing to move?”</p><p>“They are and they’re even going to help us set bait for Walker. How’s it going there?”</p><p>“Walker’s a slick son of a gun. Didn’t give anything away when we talked to him. Just said he’d gotten a tip from ‘a brother’ about a hunt—no details. Told us to let him handle it. Seemed a little startled to see me in one piece, though.”</p><p>“See if you can delay him another day, give our friends time to set up the bait.”</p><p>“We’ll try. But Dean, you boys watch yourselves. I can’t promise he won’t get away from us.”</p><p>A knock sounded on the motel door. “We’ll watch ourselves. Warn us if he does, okay? Gotta run, company’s here.”</p><p>“Sure thing, son. Bye.”</p><p>“Bye.” Something prompted him to text <i>love you</i> after he hung up.</p><p>Sam opened the door.</p><p>“Hello, Sam,” said Lenore, looking significantly happier than she had when they’d left the farm. “May I come in?”</p><p>Sam smiled and stepped aside. Dean stood, as he had been trained to do whenever a woman walked in that wasn’t a date.</p><p>“Hi, Dean,” she said as she walked in. “I just had to come by and thank you for dinner. Still not our favorite food, but we’ll make it through the move now.”</p><p>“Good,” they chorused, and Sam finished, “we were hoping that would be the case.”</p><p>She nodded. “Dean, you asked about supplies. If it’s not too much trouble, it sure would help for us not to have to come into town to shop before Walker gets here.” She handed him a list. “I think you should be able to get everything here in town.”</p><p>Dean looked it over and nodded. “I think so. My dad is with Walker, trying to delay him. He said he’d call if Walker slips him.”</p><p>“Okay. We’ll plant the carcasses tonight, then, just to be safe.”</p><p>“Thank you. And you need to head out as soon as we get you supplied up.”</p><p>“We will. With twenty of us, it shouldn’t take too long to pack.”</p><p>Sam nodded. “Dean, there’s a 24-hour store the next town over. You think—?”</p><p>“Yeah, I do. Let’s go. We’ll see you in a few, Lenore.”</p><p>They walked out and Dean shivered. “Man, the way she’s lookin’ at us...</p><p>“Like we’re some kind of saviors?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“They were starving, Dean. We brought them food that wouldn’t get anyone killed. How did you expect her to react?”</p><p>“Honestly? To turn on us.”</p><p>“Dude, they’re smart enough not to bite the hand that feeds them. Literally.”</p><p>Dean chuckled. “I’m starting to realize that. Man, this is confusing. <i>Good</i> monsters and <i>bad</i> hunters?”</p><p>“I’m still stuck on bad hunters taking hit jobs from worse angels,” Sam confessed. “Our lives, man.”</p><p>“For real. At least Dad’s still with us.”</p><p>“Yeah. And Bobby, and Gabriel and Castiel. And now we have Ellen and Ash, too.”</p><p>“I just wish... Pastor Jim and Caleb, man.”</p><p>“I know. Me, too.”</p><p>They drove for a half hour in silence, then Dean nodded. “That it?”</p><p>“Looks like it,” Sam confirmed.</p><p>They got out and Dean pulled out the list. “Lots of this is stuff we need, too.”</p><p>Sam nodded. “Should we split up?”</p><p>“Yeah.” He tore the list in half as Sam got another cart. “Meet you at the front.”</p><p>“Okay. Let’s make this fast; the sooner we get that nest on the road, the better.”</p><p>“No arguments here.” Dean set off.</p><p>The store was fairly deserted at this hour, so moving quickly and methodically through the aisles, the brothers made good time in getting everything they needed. They then met at the front and combined their cartfuls.</p><p>After checking out, they hurried back toward the Impala but stopped short when they saw someone standing next to the car, looking around. They were just about to go for their guns when the figure turned toward them and they could see that it was Castiel.</p><p>“Hey, man,” Dean said with a smile. “What’s up?”</p><p>“Hello, Dean,” Castiel returned gravely. “Gabriel sent me to warn you. Walker has drugged your father and Ellen. Bobby was away getting food. They won’t be able to catch up to him tonight.”</p><p>“How long until he’s here?”</p><p>“Dawn, if he drives straight through.”</p><p>He nodded. “Okay, we’ll warn them. Thank you.”</p><p>Castiel nodded back, then looked at the carts. “Here, let me assist you.” He put a hand on each cart, and suddenly they were empty. “Everything fit into the trunk, I believe,” he stated when the brothers looked at him in confusion. “I’ll meet you at your motel.” And he vanished.</p><p>They drove straight there, to find him talking with Lenore outside the door.</p><p>“We can’t leave yet,” Lenore was objecting. “We need—oh, hi, boys. Did you get everything?”</p><p>“We did,” Sam replied. “I take it he told you?”</p><p>“Yes, he did. Eli and Conrad are out planting the last of the carcasses now. We can be on the road in five hours.”</p><p>“Cas, can you help them make it sooner?” Dean looked at her. “You’ve been shootin’ straight with us from the beginning. We want you out of this maniac’s scope as fast as we can get you.”</p><p>Castiel nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”</p><p>“Come on,” Sam said. “Let’s get our stuff loaded back up. Stay at the farm and wait.”</p><p>Castiel vanished for a moment, and by the time he reappeared with the brothers’ duffles in hand, the nest’s supplies were in the back of Lenore’s truck.</p><p>They escorted Lenore back to the farm. The nest was milling, confused by the sudden bounty. Sam addressed them as they got out of the Impala. “You need to leave—<i>now</i>. Walker is on his way and you need to be <i>gone</i>.”</p><p>“You heard the man,” Lenore stated, tossing a stack of boxes to the vampire nearest her truck. “Let’s move.”</p><p>Two male vampires crashed through the bushes into the clearing. “Carcasses are all planted.”</p><p>“Good.” Lenore tossed more packing supplies to them. “Don’t bother to clean. The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”</p><p>They nodded and, between vampire speed and angelic help, were ready to roll in 15 minutes. Sam went over the map with Lenore again, just to make sure she knew where they were headed. She thanked him again, and they left.</p><p>As the caravan drove away, the Winchesters and Castiel waved. Dean lowered his hand and sighed. “Time to prep—Walker will be here sooner rather than later.”</p><p>Castiel nodded. “Gabriel has restored John and Ellen, but he can’t bring them straight here without arousing Walker’s suspicions. You should rest; I’ll stand guard.”</p><p>“Thanks, man,” Sam said, moving to get the sleeping bags out of the trunk.</p><p>“How do we play this?” Dean asked. “I mean, will Walker be coming straight here or what?”</p><p>“I doubt that he will come straight to the farmhouse,” Castiel replied. “He’ll need to eat, at minimum, and investigate the mutilations—Uriel has told him to expect them, but he’ll need to confirm the information.” He paused, tilting his head as he thought. “Perhaps I should ensure that the long drive will leave him tired enough to sleep for several hours after he eats. That would give the others time to arrive safely.”</p><p>“Thanks, man,” Dean smiled.</p><p>“Will he be coming here, though, if he gets past the others?” Sam asked as he got back to the porch.</p><p>Castiel nodded. “Yes, whether he knows we’re here or not. He will be as curious about the vampires as he will about you.”</p><p>Dean thought for a moment before calling, “Hey, Loki! Need you at the farmhouse.”</p><p>There was a moment and then air displaced. “Your dad’s all right, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Loki stated as he materialized.</p><p>“Thank God,” Dean breathed.</p><p>“They’re gonna switch off drivers at every gas stop, should get here within a couple of hours of Walker.”</p><p>“Awesome. But that’s not why I called. If you’re doing the whole Trickster thing, you can manipulate reality, right?”</p><p>Loki just looked at him, an eyebrow on the rise.</p><p>Dean took a step forward. “Walker’s coming here, come hell or high water. What if we set up a shell game?”</p><p>Loki began to smile. “I ain’t changin’ the channel...”</p><p>Dean laid out his idea.</p><p>“Damn,” Loki said, grinning broadly. “I think you’d make a fine Trickster, yourself!”</p><p>Sam and Dean both laughed, and Sam pulled out his phone to call John and get him up to speed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Trick or Treat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
Walker awoke with a start around noon the next day, finding himself cramped in the driver’s seat of his pickup. He couldn’t remember a thing after having returned to the truck after getting breakfast that morning.</p><p>He swore as he worked out the stiffness, then drove to a different restaurant to get food. He had a feeling he’d need fuel but didn’t want to risk getting knocked out again.</p><p>While he ate, he worked out his cover story for investigating the cattle mutilations. There was nothing in the local paper about such a thing. Finally, he decided to pass himself off as a new agent with the extension service.</p><p>Sure enough, a conversation with the sheriff revealed that five mutilated cattle had turned up that morning at five different farms, though the sheriff was clearly skeptical of any sort of Satanist interpretation. “Crazy thing, though,” he stated. “The brands match some cattle that were just bought last night—two Kansas boys, and they paid cash. Probably just a coincidence, though.”</p><p>“Yeah, probably,” Walker ground out. “These Kansas boys... anything stand out about them?”</p><p>The sheriff shrugged. “No complaints, if that’s what you mean. Man they rented the trailer from said they seemed like nice kids. Drove some kind of classic car.”</p><p>“Was one of them... tall? Like overly so?”</p><p>“They were both <i>tall</i>, mister, or so I’m told. One’s kinda bandy-legged, leather jacket.”</p><p>“Bandy-legged.....like bowed?”</p><p>The sheriff rolled his eyes. “Yes, like bowed.”</p><p>“They bought five cows.”</p><p>“What’s it to you? Seems they had a friend here in town, needed some help.”</p><p>“Look, friend—I’m trying to solve these mutilations.”</p><p>“And I’m telling you, there’s no such thing.”</p><p>“Then you won’t mind me taking a look at things, would you?”</p><p>“It’s a free country—but I hear you’re harassing anybody in this county, I’m sending you back to Bozeman, you hear?”</p><p>“You do that,” Walker snarled, his voice fairly dripping condescension.</p><p>“Well? Seems to me you’re wastin’ daylight.”</p><p>“Seems to me you’re wastin’ air,” he snarled in return as he headed for his car.</p><p>He got in and seethed for a moment before starting the engine and pulling out, heading for the address his contact had given him. He pulled up outside a nondescript farmhouse. Getting out, he slowly approached the house. The place looked deserted—until the front door opened.</p><p>Walker instantly drew his gun.</p><p>“Hey, whoa!” called the male figure in the doorway, hands up in surrender. He looked familiar, but Walker couldn’t place his face. “Take it easy, mister.”</p><p>“Who are you?”</p><p>“My name is Sam.”</p><p>Walker’s eyes narrowed, and the gun rose slightly higher. “Winchester.”</p><p>The boy gulped and paled. “H-how do you know me? And what—why are you pointing that gun at me?”</p><p>“Drop the act.”</p><p>“What act? What are you talking about? Who are you?”</p><p>He cocked the gun. “I know who you are, Winchester. <i>What</i> you are.”</p><p>“What do you mean, what I am? I’m pre-law—well, I was—”</p><p>“Until your girlfriend got killed. Fried on the ceiling like your momma.”</p><p>“How do you know that? <i>Who are you?!</i>”</p><p>“Name’s Walker. I’m a hunter.”</p><p>“Well, if—if you’re a hunter—w-why....”</p><p>The door suddenly opened wider to reveal John Winchester with a shotgun. “Drop the gun, Walker.”</p><p>“You know what he is, Winchester. What he’s gonna become!”</p><p>“He’s my son. He’s my responsibility. <i>I</i> decide if he’s a threat, not you.”</p><p>Walker nodded. “See, that’s why you can’t be trusted to do the right thing. He’s your <i>son</i>.”</p><p>“I <i>know</i> the boy, Walker. You don’t.”</p><p>“Which is why this won’t kill me like it would you.”</p><p>“You don’t trust his judgment?” Ellen Harvelle said, coming around the corner of the house with a rifle. “Trust mine. Boy’s human, Walker. Leave ’im be.”</p><p>“You’ve been compromised, Harvelle.”</p><p>“Compromised?” asked another boy rounding the other side of the house with Bobby Singer; Walker figured he must be Dean, given the bowed legs. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”</p><p>“Means she’s taken up with you.”</p><p>Dean scoffed. “What is this, Spy vs. Spy? Come on.”</p><p>“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out,” Walker growled. “Girlfriend dies exactly like Mommy Dearest. Boy starts showing psychic abilities at 22. Getting stronger all the time.”</p><p>“Yeah? Well, newsflash—the demon’s dead. It’s over.”</p><p>Walker scoffed. “Demon’s dead.” He waved the gun at Sam. “Long live the demon spawn.”</p><p>“The hell are you talking about?!” Dean and John exploded at the same time.</p><p>“He bled into Sam. Poisoned him like a vampire does.”</p><p>“He is <i>human</i>, Walker,” Harvelle growled. “He’s passed every test I know, and the angels even vouch for him.”</p><p>“He’s a creature, and he dies.” He cocked the gun.</p><p>“NO!” the others roared.</p><p>Walker pulled the trigger and Sam’s head exploded like a watermelon. And immediately thereafter, something plowed into Walker from behind.</p><p>He gasped as he fell. The gun went spinning away. He hit the ground and rolled over—to find Sam Winchester grinning dangerously at him.</p><p>“Trick or treat,” Sam said before punching Walker in the face.</p><p>“... the hell?” he gasped, recovering slightly from the blow.</p><p>“Wrong.” Another punch.</p><p>Walker struggled to stand. Sam pinned him and punched him again.</p><p>“Get OFF me!”</p><p>“After you tried to kill me?” <i>Pow</i>. “I don’t think so.” <i>Sock</i>.</p><p>Walker twisted, trying to push him off. But Sam was younger and quicker and not so easy to dislodge. Walker went limp. Sam didn’t let up.</p><p>“Sam, that’s enough!” John barked.</p><p>Sam paused. And suddenly he flew backward like he was on an invisible string.</p><p>A dark hand reached down to touch Walker’s forehead, and the pain of the beating fled. Gasping, he looked up to see the man who’d sent him there standing over him. Nodding his thanks, he stood.</p><p>The other man nodded back and turned to where Sam seemed to be pinned to the ground. “Now, as for this abomination—”</p><p>And suddenly there was another man standing in front of Sam. “Uriel.”</p><p>Uriel’s eyes narrowed. “Move, Castiel.”</p><p>“Stand down, Uriel. He is not to be harmed.”</p><p>“He is an abomination, Castiel!”</p><p>Castiel’s eyes blazed like cobalt fire. “Father has ordered him left alone.”</p><p>Uriel scoffed. “Oh, Father talks to you now?”</p><p>“Is that so incredible?”</p><p>“Move. Aside.”</p><p>“As your superior, I order you to stand down!”</p><p>Uriel sneered. “You took a vessel without leave, brother. Command has passed to me.”</p><p>“I am acting on Father’s orders. That used to matter to you.”</p><p>“Father no longer communicates to anyone!”</p><p>“He speaks to Joshua! He speaks to Gabriel!”</p><p>“Joshua stays in his garden and Gabriel is <i>gone</i>!”</p><p>“You know, Uriel,” Sam drawled, “you used to have a sense of humor. How’d you get to be so boring?”</p><p>Uriel’s head snapped around. “... what?”</p><p>Sam smirked—and his form rippled and shifted into that of an older, shorter man with lighter brown hair and an impish air. “Trick or treat,” he said again.</p><p>Uriel’s jaw slammed open.</p><p>“So tell me,” said the man who wasn’t Sam, “whose idea was all this, anyway? Sure wasn’t Yahweh’s.”</p><p>Uriel frowned. “... you are... certain?”</p><p>“Yup.” He popped the p, manifested a candy bar, and took a bite of it.</p><p>Uriel went silent, just staring.</p><p>“Answer him,” Castiel demanded. “By whose authority have the Winchesters been made targets?”</p><p>“Zachariah’s,” Uriel said softly.</p><p>“And who gave Zachariah that authority?”</p><p>“I... I don’t know.”</p><p>“Are you willing to admit that Zachariah might not be following Father’s will?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Not even if we could prove this was Lucifer’s plan?” challenged the man with the candy bar, who seemed to be some kind of Trickster.</p><p>Uriel’s eyes narrowed. “<i>Lucifer</i> is in the <i>Cage</i>.”</p><p>“Yeah, but Azazel found a way to get through to him.” The Trickster eyed Uriel. “You seem a little touchy about this subject, kid.”</p><p>“I....”</p><p>“You don’t care who gave the order, do you? You want Lucifer out as much as Azazel did.”</p><p>“How <i>dare</i> you—”</p><p>The Trickster stood. “I got this straight from Gabriel, kiddo. You’re not following Yahweh’s orders, and you don’t care because you hate humans more than you love your Dad.” He paused for emphasis. “Just. Like. Luci.”</p><p>A sword suddenly manifested in Uriel’s hand and he lunged. Just as suddenly, a sword manifested in Castiel’s hand, and he blocked Uriel’s blow.</p><p>Uriel gasped as they were eye to eye. “... you are not in a vessel!”</p><p>Castiel’s stony expression finally changed to a smirk.</p><p>“Castiel,” Uriel whispered. “Join us... you will be rewarded most handsomely...”</p><p>“TRAITOR!” Castiel cried and forced Uriel backward—onto another sword held by... Sam Winchester.</p><p>Uriel groaned and light started to leak from him.</p><p>“Guess you forgot,” Sam growled. “<i>We</i> will judge <i>you</i>, not the other way around. Sayonara.” And he gave the sword a vicious twist, then jerked it out and flung himself away.</p><p>A blast of light and sound, and Uriel sagged to the ground, ashen wing-prints spreading across the earth behind him. Walker had turned his head aside as soon as the light had begun to build, so his eyes were spared, and he found himself staring down at the corpse in shock.</p><p>“So, Walker,” said the Trickster. “How’s it feel knowing your friend was a fallen angel?”</p><p>Shock gave way to rage as Walker spun to face him. “It’s not real. <i>None of this is real</i>—it’s all a trick to shield your overlord, the Boy King of Hell! And I’ll keep shooting down your illusions until I find the real one and kill HIM!”</p><p>Somebody whistled, and the last thing Gordon Walker saw as he turned was Sam Winchester’s face and the blur of a silver blade swinging through the air.</p>
<hr/><p>“<i>Nice</i>,” Loki breathed as Walker’s head rolled from his shoulders. His body stood there for a moment as if confused before it sagged to its knees and then tilted ludicrously to the side.</p><p>Sam sighed and threw down the sword. “It was fast, and he saw it coming. That’s more mercy than he’d have shown Lenore.”</p><p>“It was more mercy than he deserved,” Dean growled as the other humans converged on the scene.</p><p>“More mercy than he’d get from someone who’s really in league with Hell,” John added quietly, squeezing Sam’s shoulder.</p><p>Sam turned his head and gave his father a huge smile.</p><p>Loki snorted. “Shoot, Hell would have been better served by leaving Walker alive and causing mayhem.”</p><p>Now Dean began to chuckle.</p><p>John looked at him with an eyebrow raised.</p><p>“It just hit me—the vampires were more human than Walker was!”</p><p>“How do you figure?” John and Sam asked at the same time.</p><p>“They cared about people enough to change their diet. He didn’t care who he killed.”</p><p>“It’s worse than that,” Ellen confessed in a low voice. “Vampires turned his sister, and he killed her in cold blood. Then he turned up at the Roadhouse and <i>bragged</i> about it.”</p><p>All three Winchesters’ jaws went south and even Loki looked rattled.</p><p>“Well, he ain’t killin’ anybody anymore,” Bobby stated.</p><p>“Let’s salt and burn him,” Dean said. “Last thing we need’s him coming back.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “I think there’s some firewood out back we could use for a pyre.”</p><p>“Let’s do this.”</p><p>Sam nodded and followed Dean back behind the farmhouse. Bobby and Ellen went with them. John, Loki, and Castiel watched them go.</p><p>Then John stooped and picked up the sword Sam had thrown down. He looked at it a moment before handing it, hilt first, to Loki. “This is yours, I think.”</p><p>Loki smiled and accepted the sword.</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“My pleasure.” And he vanished.</p><p>John turned. “And thank you, Castiel.”</p><p>The dark-haired man nodded at him and vanished.</p><p>John looked down and sighed. Sam had killed a man and an angel, true—but a madman and a fallen angel. And there’d been no trace there of the hellish nature the demons all swore Sam now had thanks to the demon blood.</p><p>Bobby walked over to him. “What’s on your mind?”</p><p>“Sam.” John shook his head. “Can’t believe I let the rumors blind me to what was staring me right in the face.”</p><p>“What was that, John?”</p><p>Ellen walked up, her hand splaying gently between John’s shoulder blades.</p><p>“He’s my son.” John smiled. “And I’ve got every right to be proud of him, ’cause for all his faults, he’s a good man.”</p><p>“They both are,” she said softly.</p><p>He put an arm around her waist. “Yeah. They are.”</p><p>Bobby nodded. “They wanted you to see ‘good son’ vs. ‘bad son’.”</p><p>“Yeah.” John huffed and shook his head. “Shoulda realized... the problem’s not that Sam wants to do his own thing. It’s that he takes after his old man too damn much.”</p><p>“Oh?” Ellen asked at the same time Bobby snorted and said, “Damn straight.”</p><p>John chuckled and pulled Ellen a little closer. “Stick around. You’ll see what I mean.”</p><p>“You might regret that,” she chuckled. “I can be a hardheaded son of a bitch sometimes.”</p><p>“So can I, Ellen. So can I.”</p><p>“Well, then!” Bobby laughed. “I’m gonna go help the boys!”</p><p>John and Ellen laughed.</p><p>“Hey!” Dean called. “You mind givin’ us a hand here?”</p><p>“Let’s go help them,” Ellen smiled up at John.</p><p>He brushed a kiss on her temple and turned with her to follow Bobby back to the house. And somehow, in spite of the unpleasant task that lay before them, John felt a deep sense of peace settle over him for the first time in a long, long time.</p><p>Finally, his war was over. Finally, something in his life that had felt so wrong for so many years had been made right.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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<span class="u">Two Months Later</span></p><p>The Impala cruised down the highway toward the Roadhouse from Singer Salvage when Sam’s phone started to vibrate its way out of his pocket.</p><p>Startled, Sam grabbed it, frowned at the unfamiliar number, and answered. “Hello?”</p><p>“Uh... is... is this Sam Winchester?” a young man’s voice asked nervously.</p><p>“Who’s asking?” Sam tried not to sound sharp and make the nerves worse, but he didn’t recognize the voice at all.</p><p>“I... my-my name is Jeremy....”</p><p>Sam turned a puzzled frown to Dean. “Do we know a Jeremy?”</p><p>Dean’s lips framed the word, then he shook his head.</p><p>Sam turned his attention back to the phone. “Uh, yeah, this is Sam. What can I help you with?”</p><p>“I... I think I have a message for you.”</p><p>“... You <i>think</i>?”</p><p>“My... My dad and me... we went hiking in....” And he named a well-hidden wilderness area. “We took ... We took a rest by a river and I set my bag down. When... when we got to the motel, there was.... there was a piece of paper in it with this number, your name, and a message.”</p><p>Sam’s eyes went wide, since he’d recognized the name of the area. “What’s the message?”</p><p>“Uh... it says....” His voice took on a cadence as he read, erasing his slight stutter. “‘Hey, just wanted you to know this place is perfect. We have plenty to eat and we are left alone. We are thriving. If you ever need anything, you know where to find us. Just say the word and you have it. Anything at all. We owe you our lives. Thank you.’ And it... and it’s signed ‘Lenore’.”</p><p>Sam let out an audible sigh of relief. “Thanks, Jeremy. Listen, would you do me a favor?”</p><p>“If... If I can.”</p><p>“Don’t tell anyone about this, okay? See, Lenore and her family had to move out there because someone tried to kill them.”</p><p>“Lenore?” Dean asked. “Is she okay?”</p><p>“Okay,” Jeremy said. “My dad was sleeping... he doesn’t even know I found the note... what should I do with it?”</p><p>Sam shot Dean a thumbs-up. “Can you tear it in half, maybe, take off the part with the message?”</p><p>“Done.”</p><p>“Okay. Burn that part. But hang on to my phone number, okay? And if you ever need help—like, if anything weird or scary like that happens again—you call me. Me and my brother will come if we can.”</p><p>He heard a lighter flick and seconds later, the soft sigh of running water. “It’s burnt.”</p><p>“Awesome. Thanks, Jeremy. Have a good night.”</p><p>“You, too. We... we were planning on leaving the park tomorrow.”</p><p>“Okay. Have a good trip.”</p><p>And Jeremy hung up.</p><p>Sam pocketed his phone with a relieved smile. “Yeah. Lenore’s fine.” And he relayed her message.</p><p>Dean grinned. “Awesome!”</p><p>Sam grinned back and settled into his seat a little further. Then he chuckled. “Poor kid sounded terrified.”</p><p>“Well, he was basically calling a complete stranger with a mysterious message that just appeared in his backpack out of nowhere!”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I know.”</p><p>“Yeah,” said Loki’s unexpected voice from the back seat, “and that’s <i>without</i> knowing the sender was a vampire!”</p><p>Dean gasped, nearly swerving.</p><p>“Ah, sorry, kid. You want trumpets next time?”</p><p>“No, that’s fine, honest.”</p><p>“You sure? I play a mean jazz trumpet.” Loki winked at Dean in the rearview mirror.</p><p>“Gabriel blowing his trumpet. Scare the heebies out of everyone!” Dean shot back.</p><p>Loki chuckled and leaned back in the seat, whistling “The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You.”</p><p>“So, we heard from Lenore,” Sam filled him in.</p><p>Loki nodded. “Yeah, I heard. Glad they’re okay. Not that we get along too well with vampires ourselves, but at least that nest is trying to avoid killing anyone.”</p><p>Sam nodded. “I hope they make it.”</p><p>“Well, they’re safe for a few years, at least.”</p><p>“That’s comforting—wait,” Sam said. “What happens in a few years?”</p><p>“Nothing, I hope. It’s a little hard to tell yet, now that we’ve changed the timeline.”</p><p>Sam opened his mouth, and Dean said, “Sammy, let it go.”</p><p>Sam huffed. “Okay, fine.”</p><p>“Anyway.” Dean pulled over and turned to look in the back. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>“Just wanted to give you an update on the God Squad,” Loki replied. “Hell’s in enough disarray that you don’t have to worry about them for a while, but Castiel’s gotten crosswise with Zachie Poo for calling him out on collaborating with Lilith—he can prove it, but he doesn’t have much clout with Michael.” He sighed. “Looks like I might have to go home for a while, straighten things out.”</p><p>Sam’s voice held compassion. “I know you didn’t want to.”</p><p>“I dunno if they’ll listen, but Castiel’s only got one other ally; everyone else is too scared to question orders, even if they don’t make sense.” Loki snorted. “And hey, beats getting stabbed by my damned brother on a hotel dance floor, right?”</p><p>“That’s right,” Dean smiled. “So when are you heading upstairs?”</p><p>Loki sighed. “I dunno. Still haven’t psyched myself up to it.”</p><p>“I think it might be better to get it over with,” Sam nodded.</p><p>“Yeah. I guess.” But Loki sat still, staring out the side window.</p><p>“If something happens, you’ll never be able to forgive yourself,” Dean put in.</p><p>Loki looked at him for a moment. Then the corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Trying to get rid of me, is that it?”</p><p>Dean shrugged, but he was smiling. “Just sayin’.”</p><p>Loki chuckled, ruffled Dean’s hair, and vanished, leaving a pie on the front seat between the brothers. Half cherry and half apple.</p><p>Dean stared at it, practically drooling.</p><p>Sam pulled a pair of plastic-wrapped forks from the glove box. “Beer in the trunk?”</p><p>“Hell, yeah.” Dean shut off the engine and jumped out to get it.</p><p>Sam brought the pie to the trunk and they sat, setting the pie between them. Dean handed Sam a beer, opened his own, and paused.</p><p>Then he raised his beer in salute. “Here’s to freedom, little brother.”</p><p>Sam grinned and touched the neck of his bottle to Dean’s. “Hear, hear!”</p><p>They drank in unison and dug into the pie, teasing and laughing and enjoying the peace of the moment.</p>
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